Revealed in Discovery
by seditionary
Summary: The God of Mischief has been rehabilitated and for some reason keeps showing up at Stark Tower. Tony knows he should keep his distance, but he's never been very good at resisting temptation. And, what you don't know may not hurt you, but it sure can lead to some awkward surprises from time to time. Humor, fluff, eventual mpreg. See inside for addtional warnings.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! This takes place about a year after "The Avengers," and I'm ignoring that peek at Thanos they gave us there at the end of the movie. This is my first fic in this fandom, by the way, and being late to the game, I'm sure this premise has been done before, but I really like the idea of Loki trying to cope with being in a recovery-from-evil program and Stark trying to figure out what the heck to do with him. Warnings for language, and there will be smut in the next chapter. Eventual mpreg. Constructive feedback appreciated!**

* * *

**Discovery:** _A category of procedural devices employed by a party to a civil or criminal action, prior to trial, to require the adverse party to disclose information that is essential for the preparation of the requesting party's case and that the other party alone knows or possesses._

* * *

The first time it happened, Tony Stark wasn't prepared.

Well, that would be an understatement. Having the goddamn alien God of Mischief suddenly materialize in the middle of a guy's kitchen floor isn't exactly the kind of appointment a genius billionaire-playboy-philanthropist type has entered into his Outlook calendar.

The kitchen was a mess too, as Tony had just put a panful of eggs, onions, sausage, bacon, and cheese (cholesterol be damned) on the stove, and he'd left greasy knives, soiled utensils and discarded packaging in his wake. But, he didn't have time to be embarrassed by his less-than-pristine cooking style because by the time Loki got through apparating, or whatever it was that he did, he'd made Tony's previous mess look like the Royal Palace on inspection day. You know, what with the whirlwind of air displacement kicking up dust and throwing potholders, place mats and dish towels around like so much confetti.

"Hello, human." The malevolent sounding voice seemed to swirl around Tony's head, and then Loki stood there, tall and majestic in his leathers, his long ink-black hair settling softly around his shoulders. His eyes were glittering with intent and he had a slight smile on his lips.

"Aw, shit..." Tony muttered, unable to take his eyes off a grocery list fluttering slowly to the floor. But then he got a glimpse of Loki's eyes and quickly diverted his attention. "Well, hey there, Reindeer Games! It's been too long, by which I mean, it hasn't been long enough. What the hell are you doing here? And, I _am_ armed, well, sort of." Tony hastily picked up a slippery-handled kitchen knife, intending to brandish it threateningly, but it promptly slid between his fingers and fell to the floor. He dove to pick it up, but it disappeared. When he stood up, he saw it glinting in Loki's hand.

And, oddly, Loki handed it back, handle first. "This is disgusting. What were you doing, preparing to roast a boar?" He had a puzzled sneer on his face.

Tony gazed at the proffered weapon and/or kitchen tool, and gingerly took it back. "No—I got a little nostalgic for my mom's Sunday morning omelets, and I guess I got carried away. Oh, and _why_ haven't you plunged this thing into my guts yet, by the way?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Didn't my brother tell you? I've been rehabilitated. I'm a good little son of Odin now. Certainly no need to stir up my father's minions by skewering lowly mortals. I'm simply paying you what I understand is known in this realm as a 'courtesy call.'"

"Courtesy call. What the hell does that mean?"

Loki took in a deep breath, letting it slowly escape between his lips as if he were about to dip his hands into something rank, and then he said, "I'm... sorry."

Tony stood in his typical cocky pose with his arms crossed, blinking at an unnaturally rapid rate. Then, he shook his head, a contorted expression squishing all his features together as he spat out, "Sorry? You're _sorry?_ For what, destroying half my town? For throwing me out a window?" He suddenly strode up to the god and got in his face. "Or, for _killing my friend?_ Which is it, low-life?"

Loki met his eyes, then dropped his gaze to the floor. "For everything. All of it. I know my words mean nothing to you. I know I am fully deserving of your anger, your hatred—and more. Even so, I wanted you to know that I no longer believe myself to be above you and your kind, or any other living being for that matter. I wish I could make amends to you and everyone I hurt. It is impossible... yet I wish it all the same."

Tony felt his fury rising. "Aw, poor baby. And, what am I supposed to do now, give you a hug? Tell you it's okay, that that's all I needed to hear and, woo-hoo, all is forgiven?"

Loki shook his head tiredly. "No. I expect nothing from you. No forgiveness, no kindness. It was just an attempt to... offer something." He laughed softly. "I have little else to give, besides my words. It is my hope that I can one day use them to bring forth something other than misery. This was... a start." Loki drew himself up and Tony could see he was about to disappear.

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to lay off stuff like saying 'lowly mortals' when you're talking to one of us. Just a suggestion."

Loki gave a wry grin. "Ah, yes. Old habits, Stark. Apologies."

And with that, he was gone in a whoosh.

When Tony looked around, the kitchen was spotless. The mess in his frying pan was now a perfectly turned omelet that would have done his mother proud, and his grocery list was back on the refrigerator door.

* * *

The second time it happened, Tony was drunk.

Jane Foster was in New York for some conference or other and Thor had turned up at Stark Towers to invite him and Pepper to have dinner with them at a fancy restaurant. When the ladies headed off to the bathroom, Tony quickly scooted closer to Thor and said, "I saw your brother the other day."

Thor was still eating, but he paused mid-chew. "Loki," was all he said. He didn't sound surprised, and the expression on his face told Tony how much sorrow the younger god had already caused him. "Did he attempt to harm you?"

"Uh... No, but of course, I was pretty heavily armed. I think he knew better than to mess with me," Tony said in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Thor did him the kindness of hiding a smirk. "Well, then, what did he want?"

"He claims he came to tell me he was sorry." There was no missing Tony's bitterness; Thor looked interested.

"Ah. And how did you respond to him, Man of Iron?"

Tony was aware that Thor's clear blue eyes were on him, that he was being studied. "Well, to be honest, I wasn't exactly gracious about it." He took a sip of wine and then met Thor's gaze. "Do you think I screwed up? Was that some kind of test?"

"Test?"

"Yeah, I don't know. To see how far he could push me or something?"

"No, I don't think so." Thor sighed. "I cannot imagine that my brother is up to such childish nonsense, given his recent incarceration."

"Speaking of which, what's this about him being rehabilitated? I mean, like—really? Do they do therapy in the dungeons of Asgard?"

Thor glanced toward the ladies' room and observed that there was a substantial line, giving them plenty of time to speak privately. He turned back to Tony and lowered his voice. "No. My brother was treated like any other criminal—beaten, starved, humiliated, made bereft of his magic." Thor's jaw was tight and Tony noticed he was gripping his fork so tightly that it bent. "I visited him as often as I could, trying to give him strength. But, he simply turned away from me. I couldn't bear the thought of my little brother, my Loki, being lost forever. I pleaded with my father to... to find another way. He loves Loki, in spite of what my brother has long believed. And, at last, he sought counsel with a healer.

"Now, we have no shortage of healers in Asgard. It is a noble profession, worthy of much respect. But, most care only for the ills of the body. My father found one that cares for the mind. He was sent to speak with Loki. When he returned, he came to my father and told him he believed that Loki suffered from madness, and not just that put upon him during his dealings with the Chitauri."

"The Chitauri? You mean those... things we were battling?"

"They come from another realm which is ruled by a being known as the Other. Do you recall how Loki took control of Agent Barton's mind? And, that of Dr. Selvig? The Other did the same to Loki."

"Whoa, there, Point Break. Are you saying Loki wasn't responsible for his actions?"

"Not at all. But, you see, the healer said Loki's sickness—his mind sickness—came from within himself, through no fault of his own. That happens sometimes, and your history tells me it happens to humans, as well. The healer said the sickness had been there all along, but when the truth of Loki's birth was revealed to him, the shock caused it to become manifest. Had that not been the case, the Other would never have been able to exert his influence upon my brother."

Tony waggled a breadstick as he pondered Thor's words. "So, you're saying Loki has some form of, what, schizophrenia? Bipolar disorder? Paranoid psychosis or something?"

Thor looked at him uncertainly. "I know not of the ailments to which you refer. But, Loki's mind is wounded. My father allowed the healer to take him from the dungeons and bring him to a place where he could mend the damage."

"Like, a psych ward?"

Thor wrinkled his brow and shrugged. "I know not the mortal term for it. But, when Loki was returned to us, he was healed."

"Listen, big guy, I've gone a few rounds with a shrink from time to time, and I can tell you—what Loki's got wrong with him doesn't just go away. He's, like, Hannibal Lecter-crazy—you know, with the hockey mask and the two-wheeler?"

Again, Thor appeared mystified, but he shook his head slightly and said, "I don't know about all that, but on your main point I agree, my friend. And if the healer had simply spent time attempting to talk with Loki, I would have no faith in his continued recovery. But, Loki underwent numerous _forms_ of healing." A sad expression crossed the god's face. "Extreme forms. I have seen it work on others. True, none were so greatly deranged as Loki. But, the healing has proved to be successful in the past. I have great hopes that it will continue to mend Loki, as well."

"So, that's it? He's now free to roam around and everyone just hopes he won't suffer a relapse and destroy a small town? Or, a big town? Aren't psychos supposed to be locked up, so they can, you know, weave baskets and take their pills on time?"

"There are no 'pills' that I know of, although I believe there is a draught he must take every so often. But, the healer has sworn upon his own life that Loki no longer poses a threat. And..."

"What?"

"My father could not allow Loki to remain free in Asgard. His subjects would have lost respect for him. They would not understand the conditions Loki is living under, believing only that my father would give his son leniency when he should be living out his days in captivity, or be put to death. So, Father banished him from Asgard."

Tony started to ask another question, but the girls returned to the table, laughing at a shared joke as they sat down. Pepper observed the somber expressions on the men's faces and asked, "Everything all right?"

Jane frowned. "Yeah, you two look way too serious for such a pleasant evening. What're you talking about?"

Tony pulled a cheery smile out of his hat and said, "Aw, no big deal, gorgeous. You're right, we need to cheer up. How's about another bottle of wine?" He caught the waiter's eye and in no time, everyone had another full glass of the best merlot the place had to offer, and by the time everyone decided to call it a night, Tony was pretty well snockered.

* * *

Happy dropped Pepper off at her place and then took Tony home. The billionaire made his way up to his living room and collapsed on the couch. He liked being horizontal, because when the room began spinning, he didn't have to worry about falling down. In fact, he was willing to bet that that was how the couch came to be invented in the first place.

He was almost asleep, when a soft voice said, "So, my brother told you my story."

Tony forced his eyes open, just to be sure he was properly hallucinating like a nice, normal drunk, but it was hard to deny what appeared before him—Loki was back, perched on the arm of the far end of Tony's couch.

"Uh... Huh?"

Loki looked wild, his hair a wind-swept mess, his leathers dusty, his boots caked with mud. "I said, you now know the details of my recovery. What do you think? Am I to be trusted?"

Tony woozily pulled himself into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. He still wasn't entirely convinced he wasn't hallucinating, and he kind of hoped he was, but he responded, "I have no idea. Right now, I'm too drunk to care. But, the real question is—why do _you?_ Care what I think, I mean."

Loki stared at Tony for a long moment, and then he looked away. "I don't know. I suppose it doesn't matter. But my oaf of a brother is so pathetically hopeful that, now that I've been released, everything is going to be all right, it's difficult to maintain an objective viewpoint. I suppose I thought you might offer another perspective. But, I can see you're in no condition to assess the mental health treatment methods of another realm." Loki's eyes took on a mischievous expression. "I'd think you'd do well to look into some sort of twelve-step recovery program, yourself, mortal. I understand extreme amounts of alcohol do the puny human liver no good. Yours must be well-pickled by now."

"Hey! I can stop anytime I want—"

"Just a suggestion."

"Listen, I—"

Before Tony could finish his thought, Loki grinned and then somehow, the place where he'd been was nothing but a lot of thin, wavy air.

Tony lay back down, but the room had stopped spinning, and the contours of his furniture were all too solidly real every time he opened his eyes, so he just went to bed.

* * *

The third time it happened, Tony was naked.

He'd been in his lab for the better part of thirteen hours, and things just weren't coming together for him. He decided he needed to give his brain a break, and his muscles had that tight, under-appreciated feel to them, so he headed for the Olympic-size pool he'd had built on one of the lower floors.

He stripped off his clothes—he preferred swimming in the nude, kind of fun, feeling the water skim around his privates—and dove in. He swam a few slow, lazy laps up and down the length of the pool, letting his mind wander and his body recharge. When he was sufficiently tired, he swam up to the shallow end and sat himself on a ledge made for lounging.

He stretched out and wiggled his toes in the perfectly temperature-controlled water and became vaguely aware that his stomach was empty. But, just as he was considering actually getting up and doing something about that, a water spout appeared in the middle of the pool. Tony watched transfixed as the column of water dissipated, revealing a raven-haired form hovering over the water. It was Loki, naked, and he appeared to be balancing himself on some sort of invisible fulcrum before simply diving into the water, much as Tony had done earlier.

Tony watched the lithe body wriggle along underwater, and he frowned as Loki came up for air and sat himself beside Tony on the ledge.

Naked.

"Hello, human," Loki said, shaking water from his hair like a dog.

Tony wiped the spray from his eyes and snarled, "What the living fuck are you doing? Can't you see I'm trying to relax?"

"Oh, I don't intend to interfere with your relaxation," Loki said cheerfully. "I merely wished to seek some advice."

"Advice. You're coming to me for advice."

"Yes. Is that unusual in some way?"

"Kind of. You know, with the whole you trying to kill me and take over my planet thing that happened, yeah."

Loki gave him a reproving look. "I did apologize for that, did I not?"

"Well, yeah. But, still."

Loki now looked uncertain. "You wish me to leave?"

Tony took a moment to actually look at the god. There was something rankling in the back of his mind that he'd always made damn certain didn't inch forward into the_ front_ of his mind, or his pants, but it was sort of, you know, _hanging_ there now, and it was kind of hard not to notice.

Loki looked _good._ He always did, with his freakin' leather coat and boots, his mane of hair, his goddamn green eyes that could go from pools of pure sorrow to innocence to murderous deviltry in a fraction of a second. Even so, it had always been pretty easy to ignore that stuff. Having your life and the lives of those around you in jeopardy does that to you, he supposed.

But now, here, sitting less than a foot away and naked, it was just about impossible not to notice that Loki, the alien God of Mischief, was a pretty damn sexy mo-fo, and...

Tony cleared his throat.

"Uh, well, no. You've got me curious. What did you want to ask me?"

Loki sat back, stretching out his long legs, much as Tony had right before his arrival. He raised his eyes toward the ceiling and said, "I recall coming upon a certain comestible in your realm—at the time, there was no opportunity to partake of it, but the smell was intoxicating. I've always wanted to try it, but I am unsure of the procedure, as there are apparently numerous different ways to prepare it. Do you think you could help me identify it?"

"What... 'comestible' are you talking about?"

"The name escapes me—it's an odd term, but the item is round and appears to have a doughy base covered with some sort of red sauce, to which a layer of fermented milk is then applied. I've seen a variety of vegetables and meats placed on top of that, although it does not appear to be mandatory. Do you know of this alluring foodstuff?"

"You mean, pizza?"

Loki's eyes widened. "Yes! That's it. Pizza. Have you tried it?"

"This is New York, buddy. We have an entire _style_ of pizza named after us, it's sold on every block. Yeah, I've had pizza. Do you want some?"

"I do. If you can just tell me how to go about acquiring it—"

"Look, I'm starving, myself. I tell you what, I'll order one for us, and then you can go on your merry way and leave me alone, how about that."

Loki shifted, regarding Tony suspiciously. "You would take a meal with me?"

"Sure. No big deal, right? I mean, you're not going to try to kill me or do the window thing again, I'm assuming. So, why not?"

"I don't wish you ill, Tony Stark."

"Okay, I'll get right on it. But first, would you mind, you know, putting on some clothes?"

Loki looked down at himself as if he'd forgotten he was naked. He gave a nod of understanding. "Of course." He stood up and Tony had an eyeful of taut muscles flexing under pale skin, rather substantial genitalia, and then a firm, round ass as Loki made his way out of the pool. He watched as Loki made a fluid move, and in one second he was clothed in a black t-shirt, skin-tight black jeans stuffed into sleek boots, and a tailored wool jacket that fit him like a second skin. Even his hair was dry. "Is this acceptable garb?"

"Yeah. I'm feeling a little underdressed now, though. Turn around, will you?"

Loki gave him a questioning look, but did as requested. Tony hastily stood up and grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and then picked up his clothes. He went to a nearby changing room and dressed. "All right, let's go to the den. We can catch a game while we eat."

* * *

In the elevator, Tony pulled out his cell phone and punched the speed dial number to his favorite pizza joint. "What do you want on the pizza?" he asked Loki.

Loki frowned thoughtfully. "What are those little red discs of meat? They appear to be some sort of sausage amalgam."

"Pepperoni? My fave. Okay, you've got it. How about onion, anchovies and hot peppers?"

Loki raised one corner of his mouth in distaste and shook his head.

"Not as adventurous as you look, are you, bub? Okay, no problem, I'll have them put 'em on my half only. Hello? Yeah, I want to order a pizza..."

A half hour later, they were sitting on Tony's couch, each balancing a paper plate full of pizza on his lap. There were two bottles of cold beer on the coffee table in front of them, and a football game on the giant TV.

Tony was wolfing his slice down with relish. He looked over at Loki and noted how slowly he ate, long elegant fingers gripping the pizza in such a way as to prevent drips of grease from staining his shirt.

"You don't eat like your brother, that's for sure," Tony observed. "Did he miss out on table manners 101 or something?"

Loki glanced at Tony and then shrugged. "I've never cared for stuffing myself. Food is nothing more than sustenance and I don't require a lot. But, this is quite delicious." He bit his lip and then added, "Thank you."

"Well, you can get the next round."

Loki chuckled. "Surely you're not suggesting we make a habit of dining together?" He sounded scornful, but Tony thought he picked up on a hint of something else.

"Hey, look, I got no problem with you, man. Your brother tells me you're trying to get your head on straight, and I respect that. I believe in second chances. God knows, I've been lucky enough to get a few. Just prove to me that I can trust you, and we're golden."

Loki chewed for a moment, and then asked, "And, what would I have to do to gain your trust, in order to achieve this state of gold you mention?"

"Well, not killing me is a great start. Not killing anyone else is good, too. Let's see how you do with that, and then we'll go from there."

Loki broke into a smile, and it hit Tony right in the crotch. He shifted uncomfortably, crossing one leg over the other and forced himself to take an interest in the game. Eventually, New York scored a goal, and he whooped in delight. "That's what I'm talking about..." he said proudly. He looked at Loki, who was observing him with a bewildered expression.

"What? Don't you like football?"

"I... am not familiar with the rules, so it's difficult for me to know when one of the competitors has gained an advantage. I take it your warriors have brought honor to their side?"

"Uh, yeah, they just scored against the Steelers. Don't they have team sports in Asgard?"

"We have something like this, but it's traditionally played using the head of a vanquished enemy in place of a leather ball."

"Jeeze. No wonder you guys are so bloodthirsty." Tony shook his head wonderingly, and the two finished their food in silence.

* * *

When the game was over, Loki stood up and faced Tony. "I thank you for this evening. It was... pleasant. However, I should allow you return to your solitude now. Goodbye." He closed his eyes and drew in a breath in preparation of departure, but Tony put his hand on Loki's arm.

"Wait! Hold on, hot shot, don't run off just yet. You want to play some pool?"

Loki eyed him warily. "Forgive my suspicion, but we have already enjoyed your pool. Why would I wish to repeat the experience so soon?"

"No, no, I mean... It's a game. Like, billiards? You know, little balls on a green felt table, you push 'em into holes with a stick?" Tony pantomimed playing and Loki watched with interest.

"Show me."

Tony led him to the game room and began racking up the balls. "It's real simple, but it takes a little practice to get the balls to go where you want them. Here, I'll run this round to give you an idea of what I'm talking about." He cued up and broke the rack, then proceeded to drop ball after ball into the pockets.

Loki followed the balls' trajectories, nodding. "I see. Very intriguing. May I try?"

"Sure. Now, look, here's how you hold the cue..." Tony took Loki's hands and placed them on the cue, noticing how cold they were. He stood beside him, demonstrating the proper stance to take when he took his shot, explaining the rules as he went.

Loki made an experimental stab at it, but the cue ball sailed past his target. His eyes narrowed. "Blast. That was... disappointing."

"Now, it's your first time, don't get down on yourself. Here, let me show you something." Tony stood directly behind Loki, leaning against his back and reaching around to put his hands on the god's arms and guiding him in his next shot. Loki leaned forward, and somehow his butt pushed back against Tony's crotch.

And, somehow, Tony's erection jumped to life.

And, somehow, he sort of... pushed forward.

There was that horrible moment when he realized that Loki realized that he was hard. That tense moment when he wasn't sure if Loki would punch him in the nose or cause fire and brimstone to rain down upon his oak-paneled designer game room. But, Loki merely looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Obviously, there are subtleties to this game of which I am not aware. Perhaps that green felt has a secondary purpose?"

"Aw, shit. I'm sorry, man. Damn it." Tony backed away and strode out of the room, his breath coming hard. What the hell was he thinking? Or rather, what the hell was _little_ Tony thinking? Not that his dick had a stellar history of using wisdom and logic when it came to getting boners, but damn. This was kind of terrible.

Loki came out of the game room and went to stand in front of Tony. "Stark—it's all right. A little drink of ale, a little exchange of warmth... It happens. Do not feel ashamed." A very naughty grin crossed Loki's face. "I rather liked it. Thor tells me that mortal women—well, _woman_, he's only had the one so far—are quite satisfactory companions in the bed chamber. I'd be most interested to find out if the same is true of your men."

"Okay, now hold on, tough stuff—that was a mistake. I just, you know, had a lapse. Not a big deal—"

"It felt like it might be a rather delightfully big deal."

"Ah, ha ha. You're scary when you flirt, you know that?" Actually, that wasn't even a little bit true. Loki's eyes were a soft smoky emerald and the smile on his face was languid, teasing. Tony's erection unhelpfully quivered against the fabric of his jeans, and Loki seemed to know exactly what it was doing, as his eyes trailed down Tony's torso and landed right on the tent in the front of his pants.

Tony gave a choked little cough and turned his back. "I think you should go," he said. Tony didn't like saying the words, but the alternative was too freaky to contemplate.

"As you wish." Loki shrugged and there was that thin air again.

Tony felt caught up short. He'd been prepared to argue; it was a little disheartening to find that the guy he'd just had a sort of intimate moment with, a guy who'd definitely seemed interested in him, would just disappear, literally, at a single word of dismissal. But, of course, it was for the best. The last thing Tony needed was to have a roll in the hay with a goddamn alien being, one with mental health issues, to boot. Still, he felt a little... let down.

A little lonely.

But it was late, and he was tired, so he headed to his bedroom.

Where the goddamn alien being was lounging, naked again, on his bed.


	2. A Little Sex

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely response to this story! This chapter is a bit smutty. Next time, we'll hear from Loki's point of view.**

**Seds**

* * *

Tony scowled at Loki. "I thought I told you to go."

"Oh, you did. But you failed to stipulate where it was, exactly, that you wished me to go _to._ You should have been more specific." The god flashed Tony a wicked grin.

"Yeah, well, this wasn't what I had in mind. _At all."_

"Mm. Well, that may be, but if you think your poor planning is going to infringe upon my having a good time, you're mistaken. Now, stop hovering there like a constipated owl and join me." Loki patted the bed enticingly.

Tony sneered defiantly. _"No._ Uh-uh, not gonna happen, not now, not ever. I'm serious—_leave."_

"Oh, please. What's a little sex between friends?" The god stared at Tony, clearly keeping the amusement off his face only with considerable effort. He then lazily raised one arm and draped it over his head, making Tony wonder when the hell he'd started getting turned on by armpit hair.

"We're not friends," Tony said sharply.

"Enemies, then."

"We're not that, either." Tony suddenly felt tired. This whole evening had been one confusing roller coaster ride of unasked-for emotions, none of which had been at all helpful. He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to sort through it all.

"Well, we're_ something,"_ Loki mused. "And, I think we should take advantage of it. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed pleasures of the flesh, and I suspect it's the same for you. Or, am I wrong?" He reached out and trailed a finger downward between Tony's shoulder blades, making him shudder with unwanted pleasure. That brought a chuckle from the god. "Ah, see? You quiver at the faintest touch. Have you no mate? That blonde woman—do you not bed her?"

"Pepper works for me, and leave her the hell out of this."

"Works for you? A servant, then."

Tony came out of his reverie to flash a shocked look at Loki. "Servant! Holy shit, dude, don't ever let her hear you say that. Your ass'll be knocked back to Asgard so fast your head'll spin. No, she's not a servant—she's an employee, and she's also my partner in a lot of stuff, she helps me... But, no, we're not, you know... seeing each other."

Loki was listening interestedly. "So, for nights on end, you've slipped into a cold bed with only your strong fingers to satisfy your needs. Tsk. I should think you'd be grateful for the opportunity I'm now affording you."

Tony swiveled on the bed and fixed Loki with a dour look. "Listen—just because it's been a while since I got laid doesn't mean I'm going to jump your bones tonight, Reindeer Games. Now, as I was saying—get out." But the words came out lacking the sting Tony intended.

Loki shrugged. "Very well, if you say so. Shame, though. I've been told I'm rather adept at this sort of thing. My one claim to athletic superiority." He gave Tony a wink and made to scoot to the opposite side of Tony's extra-wide bed, when Tony reached for him and clamped a hand on his arm. But, whatever he'd intended to say was forgotten when he touched the god's bare flesh. Tony's eyes widened in surprise.

"You're_ cold."_

"Yes. Do you like it?"

"Huh?"

"My temperature runs several degrees below that of mortals—quite a boon to the necrophiliacs among you, or so I've been told. Are you one of those? If not, I can heat my skin as well, although it's rather like holding your breath. I can't do it for long without ill effect." To Tony's amazement, the flesh beneath his fingers warmed to a normal temperature. He looked into Loki's eyes and saw deep concentration there.

"Okay, that's just weird. Stop it."

"Oh, thank God," Loki said in relief. "That really is a pain in the arse to maintain for more than a few seconds. Don't worry, you'll get used to the cold. Besides, it doesn't extend to the places that... really count." A rakish raise of an eyebrow underlined his meaning. "Come on, Stark, let's do this."

"No! I'm as open-minded as the next guy, but I'm not doin' it with an extraterrestrial, and that's all there is to it."

"Don't be ridiculous. I thought you were the adventurous one."

Loki's expression was so mischievous, his pose so tantalizing, and the chilled touch of his skin so intriguing that Tony couldn't help but break into a grin as he shook his head helplessly. "You know, this is a really bad idea, for a lot of reasons."

"Such as?"

"Well, for one, aren't you afraid we'll make a little alien demi-god baby?"

Loki sidled close and nuzzled his face into Tony's neck. When he spoke, his voice was a feral growl. "You're saying Midgardian men can bear children? That's remarkable. For, nothing would please me better than to fill you with my seed and plant my whelp in your belly—"

Tony grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and gave him a warning glare. "Whoa—if anybody's planting anything anywhere it'll be me, not you, and you can take that to the bank, get it?" He shoved Loki onto his back, crawled on top of him and crushed their mouths together, earning him a deep, delighted chuckle from Loki.

"So, you've decided to cooperate—very good. I didn't take you for a fool, in spite of your regrettable humanity."

Tony pulled back. Until that second, it hadn't occurred to Tony that he might not have a choice in how this went. "That a threat?"

Loki's lascivious expression faded and he looked puzzled. "No... I just meant... I didn't think you'd decline an opportunity to enjoy yourself with one so willing." Loki's brows knit together. "What did you think I meant?"

"I... Nothing, never mind." Tony dipped his head down to resume the kiss, but Loki put a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Neither spoke for a moment, their eyes locked together. Then Loki said softly, "You really don't trust me, do you?"

Tony suddenly felt sheepish, but he answered honestly. "I guess not."

A dark look crossed Loki's face. Tony felt him shift, attempting to wriggle out from under him. "I'm a lot of things, Stark, but I'm not a rapist. You were right, this is a very bad idea. Get off me, I'll leave you in peace."

"Wait!" Tony held him more firmly and ran a hand along the side of Loki's face. "Don't go. I'm sorry. But, you can't blame me for being a little skittish, can you?"

Loki had a resentful set to his jaw, but it softened and he shook his head slightly. "No, I suppose not."

"You have to give me some time."

"Of course. I understand that." He gave Tony a searching look. "I really do—I have much to atone for, and you've no reason to trust me as yet. It's all right."

Tony lay on his side and pulled Loki to him. They just lay there for a while, the silence seeming to heal them better than a torrent of useless words. Finally, Tony asked, "Are we okay?"

Loki roused himself, taking Tony into another deep kiss. He held Tony's forehead to his own and said quietly, "Yes, Stark. We're okay."

Everything felt lighter after that. After all, the god's lanky body felt wonderful in Tony's arms, and the chill of his skin mixed with Tony's warmth created an intoxicating electricity between them, leaving Tony eager to move forward.

"Good. Now, look, I think we ought to establish some ground rules before we—Hey!"

To Tony's surprise, he found himself flipped over onto his back, and now Loki was on top of him, lying between his legs, a thick erection pressed into Tony's denim-covered crotch. Tony yelped, and he pushed back, saying, "Oh, no you don't. I told you, I'm a pitcher, not a catcher!" Loki playfully bit his neck, struggling to remain on top, but Tony gave a war cry and managed to work his way out of the powerful embrace. The two wrestled back and forth until the bedclothes were wrecked and they were both laughing and out of breath. Loki finally eased himself onto his back beside Tony.

"All right, mortal. It really makes no difference to me who takes the dominant position." He let his knees fall apart in a delicious gesture of good-natured submission. "Enter me."

"Jesus-effing-Christ. Let me get some supplies." Tony quickly skinned out of his clothes and then began scrabbling around in his nightstand drawer.

"Supplies? What sort of supplies?" Loki asked suspiciously.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Staples, note pads, pens, paper clips and such." Tony looked back at Loki, expecting to see at least some appreciation for his wit, but Loki was frowning.

"I beg your pardon? Thor never mentioned needing such objects in order to copulate with a human."

"No, no, I was kidding! Condoms, dude. Lube? Those kinds of supplies."

"Condoms?"

Tony pulled a package out of his drawer and held it up for Loki's inspection. The god examined it and comprehension dawned. "Oh! I see." He shot another bewildered look in Tony's direction. "But these are merely to prevent pregnancy. Surely you're not so dull-witted as to not have noticed that I'm male. You needn't worry—unlike your kind, Asgardian men are not capable of bearing offspring."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, for God's sake, neither are Earth guys! It's to prevent disease, dumb ass. Don't they have STDs on Asgard?"

"STDs...?"

"Sexually transmitted diseases. My God, this is the weirdest pre-sex conversation I've ever had in my life—and I've had some doozies..." Tony muttered to himself.

"We don't, actually," Loki noted. "And, we're not susceptible to human ailments. You may use the condom device if you wish, but it's certainly not necessary. And, I would think it would only detract from your enjoyment, would it not?"

"I'll say. But... Yeah, okay, we'll go bareback, what the hell." He looked at the other item in his hand and asked, "You do use lube, though, right?"

Loki shrugged. "It may serve to... expedite matters, I suppose."

"I would think so." Tony went back to kissing his alien about-to-be lover and slipped a lube-slicked finger between his thighs, seeking Loki's entrance. He gently spread the gel over the area and then slid his finger inside.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked crossly.

"Preparing you—I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm not some mewling virgin, Stark. You needn't waste your time on such useless pursuits."

Tony pulled away and looked at the supremely irritated expression on Loki's face.

"Jeeze, man, don't they have foreplay where you come from?"

"They do. It's called battling to the death." At the sight of Tony's stunned countenance, Loki's near-murderous scowl disappeared and he broke into laughter. "I'm joking! Yes, of course we have foreplay. But, I'm impatient." He buried his face in Tony's neck, inhaling deeply of his scent as he again pressed his teeth into Tony's soft flesh. "I want to take your manhood inside me._ Now."_ He lay back, his black hair fanning out onto the white linen of Tony's pillow. "We can foreplay all you like... next time." He smiled encouragingly and wrapped his legs around Tony's waist, fitting himself against him.

Tony chuckled and obeyed his beautiful alien god with a good deep thrust.

* * *

It wasn't gentle.

Loki was all spit and teeth and sharp nails digging into Tony's back, scraping down his ribs, leaving hot scratches. Tony tried to keep things a little bit on the civilized side, but goaded by a constant patter of insults—"By the gods, Stark, is your pelvis broken? Is your puny cock destined to go no further than the mere shoreline of my entrance? Surely your balls contain something other than lukewarm dishwater—put some effort into it, man!"—Tony threw aside any semblance of concern for his lover's well-being and fucked him into the goddamn mattress. Loki's response was to plow his heels into the small of Tony's back as he thrust his hips upward in counterpoint to Tony's rapid-fire assault on his nether regions, keening as he gained purchase.

Loki finally shut up when Tony grabbed his cock and began brutally pumping him, sliding the cool skin up and down over what felt to Tony like a steel rod. Surprisingly quickly, the god made a little gasping sound and choked out, "Yes! There we are... Valhalla at last..." and he spilled a generous coating of hot spunk all over Tony's hand.

"Good for you, space man," Tony muttered. "Now it's my turn." Tony didn't let up his pace—the skin on Loki's chest and thighs was cool even after all that friction, but Loki hadn't been kidding about certain other internal parts of him running hot. Inside, Loki was snug and slick and heated and he warmed Tony like his channel was lined with tiger balm, but it wasn't unpleasant at all—just _different._

Mind-blowingly different.

Tony shot deep inside Loki and then collapsed on top of him, panting and gasping to fill his depleted lungs. Loki gave him a shove and he fell beside him, lying limp on his back in a sated, boneless mess.

"That... was freakin' awesome," Tony eventually rasped.

"It wasn't bad," Loki grudgingly agreed. "Better than I expected, really."

"Oh, please. I bet your ass'll be sore for days."

Loki snickered. "I'll have you know, I have amazing powers of resilience. But yes, I imagine I'll be thinking of you every time I sit down for at least a few of your mortal hours." He cast a sideways glance at Tony and saw that Tony was looking at him with an appreciative leer. When their eyes met, they both broke into laughter.

Tony reached for Loki's hand and then rolled onto his side and kissed him; Loki's lips were icy, but the inside of his already well-explored mouth was hot and steamy, and Tony languidly wondered what that insane combination would feel like wrapped around his cock, assuming alien gods were ever inclined to give mortals blow jobs.

Well, Loki had hinted at the possibility of a next time, so Tony was content to wait to find out.

But, after Loki's breathing had returned to normal, he rolled off the bed and stood up with that pre-disappearance aura in the air around him.

Tony stared in consternation. "Where the hell are you going?"

"I believe our business has reached a satisfactory conclusion."

"Our_ business?"_

Loki grinned. "I had to determine if your moniker, 'Man of Iron,' is appropriate. And, so it is..."

"Ha-ha. So, you were just using me all along?"

"Oh, don't be such a pathetic child. My time in this realm is long, can you blame me for taking advantage of a distraction when it presents itself? Anyway, it's not as if you didn't have a bit of fun, yourself."

"I guess." Tony took advantage of Loki's little speech to admire his bare body; his attention was firmly on the god when he produced the clothes he'd been wearing earlier and began to dress. He pulled on a pair of silk briefs that clung to his bony hips and outlined his thick cock and heavy balls as if they'd been painted with high-gloss latex. He put his arms into the black t-shirt and let it slide slowly over his head, gradually coming down to cover the smattering of fine black hairs trailing between his pecs, over the pert nipples that Tony hadn't had the opportunity to lick and nibble the way he'd wanted. The shirt rolled down over his taut belly, and came to rest just above the line of his underwear, leaving a tantalizing bit of bare flesh exposed and vulnerable, making Tony want to pull him to him and bite it.

Loki lifted his trousers and pulled them up slowly over his long legs, and Tony watched entranced as the knobby knees and finely-muscled thighs he'd so recently found himself thrusting between disappeared. He was getting hard all over again, when it occurred to him that the goddamn alien god was doing a reverse strip tease for him and was about to leave him in a thoroughly frustrated state of blue-balls like he hadn't experienced since his teen years.

"So, you're just going to run off."

"I thought I would, yes. Wouldn't want to weary you with my presence." He'd fastened his trousers and belt, and was now running his hands through his bed-ravaged hair, attempting to tame it.

Tony gave him a scornful sneer. "Got some outer-space nymphet waiting for you at home, do you?"

Loki laughed. "Hardly. I'm quite alone, these days."

"Speaking of home, where do you hang your hat in your off time? When you're not zipping through the ether or annoying the hell out of the occasional billionaire, I mean."

"Nowhere. Everywhere. My 'home' is in Asgard, but I'm not allowed there anymore." He sounded matter-of-fact, but Tony thought he caught a tinge of wistfulness in his tone.

"Right, Thor mentioned that. By the way, you're not going to, uh, clue him in about this, are you? About me rocking your world to a mortal beat?"

Loki regarded him for a moment. "Why? Ashamed of giving in to your baser instincts with another male? I gather that's no more acceptable here than in Asgard, if not less so."

"No, I'm not ashamed of anything. I just..." Tony looked down at his hands, considering his next words carefully. "Thor might spill the beans to the wrong person. I have a feeling S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't like knowing that you're on the loose inside Earth's atmosphere again. They might... take action. Which could, you know, be inconvenient for you and me, both."

Loki stood with his hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side. "I don't fear them. Of course..."

"What?"

"Odin made it very clear to me that I'm to avoid engaging in any sort of conflict with other beings. I suppose you have valid concerns. But, I'm not telling Thor a bloody thing about this for the simple reason that with whom I choose to share a bed is none of his damned business."

Tony gave a knowing smirk. "Ah, the love between two brothers, is there anything more beautiful."

"Fuck you, Stark, and thank you for a lovely evening. Perhaps we'll do it again some time."

"Sure. We'll get Thai food. You know what that is?"

Loki smirked, and said in a mocking tone, "Why, no. I'm sure you'll be happy to teach me, though." He perched on the edge of the bed. "Just as you so kindly 'introduced' me to the joys of pepperoni pizza and Midgardian billiards... So very sweet of you, Man of Iron, taking me in hand like that."

Tony frowned. "Wait a minute... What are you saying?"

Loki laughed aloud. "Stark... Did you honestly think I've never had pizza before? And, as for playing pool, I could beat you on your best day with one arm broken and the other tied behind my back... without magic." He gave Tony a pitying smile and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. "Perhaps next time you can guide me in the intricacies of checkers, or catch, or tic-tac-toe. Whatever you choose, I'll be looking forward to it." With that, he de-materialized, his laughter hanging in the air like the Cheshire cat's grin.

Tony threw a pillow across the room. "I hate him..." he muttered. "He's a good lay, but I hate him." He clicked on the TV, feeling a combination of relief, aggravation, and self-disgust.

Oh, and loneliness. He forgot loneliness.

He was on that damned emotional roller coaster ride again, and Loki was the fucking ticket-taker.


	3. Just Two Seconds

Loki lay perched on the headboard of Tony's bed. There wasn't enough room, so part of him inhabited the wall. This would have looked odd if Tony had been able to see him. But moving the molecules of his body in an erratic pattern to fool the eye of both living beings and electronic Midgardian devices was an art he'd perfected in his youth; he couldn't do it indefinitely, but long enough to suit his purposes, usually.

For now, he simply wanted to observe Stark in the light of this newfound situation. The billionaire was handsome, he had to give him that. He had a boyish quality about him that was quite appealing as well, although there was nothing boyish about what he'd done to Loki's willing body earlier that evening. In spite of Loki's taunts, he'd been impressed with Stark's ability to fuck him into a state of absolute uselessness.

Now, the man was sound asleep, lying chilled and naked on top of the wrecked covers, the infernal television machine blasting some idiotic sales pitch for some idiotic product that was probably actually dangerous to the frail human constitution. He glanced at the wretched thing and saw it going dark and silent, and it did.

Then, Loki was standing beside Stark and he saw him lying warm under the covers, and he was. A soft smile crossed Loki's face and he warmed his hand and lay it on the man's cheek for just a moment. He then silently strode into the living room, where the pizza box, dirty plates, and beer glasses still sat on the coffee table. He saw them put away, and they were.

He sat down on the couch, listening to the room. There were low hums and the ticking of a clock. He could hear the city outside, a comforting sort of rumble even in such a secluded chamber high inside of Stark Tower.

Loki liked it, liked hearing the noises. He remembered doing this back home in Asgard, sitting still and listening, letting the jumbled thoughts doing battle in his mind be soothed by the familiar sounds of his world—servants bustling, his parents talking, Thor and his friends laughing and shouting inanely outside his window.

He missed that, missed having a place to be.

Now, he had the entire universe to travel, and not one place to lay his head that he could call his own.

Not one being that would vouch for him, that would claim him. Well, Thor... But, that was only out of some misguided sense of guilt.

Stark was the one human he'd found intriguing thus far, and not for the reasons that Midgardians seemed to find him so desirable. Oh, he was sexy, yes, confident, he looked good in his clothes, but there were many like that. His money seemed to make people, male and female, weak in the knees, but it neither impressed nor attracted Loki. What need had he of coin when he could conjure anything he fancied? Anything but a home, anything but someone...

He shook his head irritably and shifted in his seat. A little jab of pain caught him by surprise, and he laughed—Stark was right, he'd be thinking of him for a good little while following their tryst. He didn't mind. It had been fun, seducing the billionaire. Too easy perhaps, but fun.

Then, of course, he'd had to piss him off, he thought with a rueful chuckle. Well, that was his way—anything good or nice or happy in his life was soon ruined, driven off by his mischievous inclinations, by his cursed tongue so quick to betray himself. He thought of Tony's words—I hate him—and a little twinge of regret rustled in his gut. Normally, hatred was good, it meant he'd been noticed, it meant that he had some small bit of power, even if just enough to make a common mortal throw a pillow across a bedchamber.

But, somehow, it wasn't really what he'd hoped for.

Wasn't what was needed to claim a place in the Iron Man's heart, or even on his couch, not really.

Not for long.

Loki stood up and glanced out the window into the sky.

And then, the air grew thin.

And Tony stirred and reached beside himself, startled awake by the empty bed. It took a moment before he remembered that Loki had already gone.

His cheek felt pleasantly warm, and he wondered when it was that he'd crawled under the covers and turned off the TV, and then he remembered that he hadn't.

And, he smiled a little before going back to sleep.

* * *

The next time it happened, Tony didn't think it ever would.

For the first few days after Loki'd teleported out of his bedroom, Tony had that sense of anticipation that comes with the belief that someone you connected with is going to contact you—that, at some point, there's going to be a welcome knock at the door, a phone call, a text, an email.

A whirlwind in the middle of your kitchen.

But, there wasn't one, and there kept not being one, and Tony cursed the Asgardians' habit of eschewing technological devices such as cell phones. "Damn it, Loki, what's the matter—worried about brain cancer? Or, just don't want to get locked into a long-term contract? I can get you a pay-as-you-go deal from Walmart!"

He did that for a while, talking to the air as if the goddamn alien god were right there in the room with him.

But, it didn't help. Loki didn't show up, didn't give any hint that he was in the world at all.

And, as the days turned into weeks, Tony got busy. That sense of anticipation turned to a die-hard wisp of hope, and then to disappointment, and then he'd forced himself to forget about it.

He told himself that it was for the best. The last thing he needed was an extraterrestrial boyfriend, right? Especially one who'd tried to take over the planet.

_And, maybe it hadn't even happened, did you ever think of that?_ he asked himself one night, glass of scotch in hand. Maybe he was just drunk all the time now. Maybe someone put something in his drink, or maybe he was suffering the effects of some toxic chemical he'd been exposed to somewhere along the way, maybe even in his own lab. He made a mental note to ask Pep to take a blood sample from him and send it off for testing...

And then, one day, he turned around as he was looking for his stash of take-out menus, and there he was.

Lounging on his couch.

He had a bandana tied around his head and was wearing a snug black t-shirt, a leather jacket, tight jeans and motorcycle boots.

Yeah, motorcycle boots.

Tony repressed a gasp of delighted excitement, forcing himself into a nonchalant pose as he regarded Loki with a sneer on his lips.

"Well, well. Where the hell have _you_ been?"

"I beg your pardon?"

The innocent expression on Loki's face was utterly disarming. Which of course was like waving a red flag in front of a bull to Tony. His nonchalance evaporated and he narrowed his eyes and snapped, "You've been gone a _month._ That's over 43,000 minutes! You couldn't take two seconds to let me know you were okay?"

Loki frowned, apparently giving Tony's outburst deep consideration before responding, "I'm sorry, I thought you were Tony Stark. Have I been conversing with a fourteen-year-old girl by mistake?"

"Oh, no you don't. Don't you _dare._ Don't you dare act like I'm overreacting because I'm pissed that you didn't call or come by, or send a fucking carrier pigeon, or whatever the hell it is you people do to let other people know you're not _dead—"_

"The absurdity of your concerns aside, may I point out that I'm here now? Shouldn't that count for something?"

"Yeah, you're here. Great. I guess the only question is _why?_ What the hell do you want from me now?"

"Dinner," Loki said mildly.

Tony's brows shot up. _"Dinner?"_

"Yes, I want you to take me to dinner. And, someplace nice, none of your damn pizza parlors or hamburger joints. Not that they don't have their charms, but I'm really in the mood to be pampered a bit tonight..." He gave his long limbs a lazy serpentine stretch and looked up at Tony entreatingly. "All right?"

Tony gave a bark of laughter. _"Pampered...?_ After your charming little exit from my bedroom? After you lied to me? That's rich. Get out."

Loki made a sad face. "Oh, dear. You really are upset with me, aren't you? I'm so sorry for my behavior." He strode over to stand in front of Tony. "Don't be angry, Tony. Please?" He gripped Tony's face in his hands and kissed him. It was a hot, wet kiss, and Tony reflexively ran his hands over Loki's lean frame, landing them on his cute little butt and squeezing. _Amazing,_ he thought. Amazing how someone so..._ infuriating_ could feel so right and perfect in his arms. Well, tough. Fool me once, and all that.

"Hey, stop it." Tony pulled back and grabbed Loki's thin wrists, wrangling him away from himself. "This isn't going to work. I told you to get out and I meant it. Go."

Loki bit his lip. "Really? There's nothing I can do to... gain your forgiveness?" He slowly dropped to his knees in front of Tony, his eyes huge as he stared up at the billionaire, posed in supplication. He never broke eye contact as his nimble fingers began unfastening Tony's belt. Tony thought he might have a tiny little brain aneurism from the amount of control it took for him to abruptly pull Loki up by his arms, but he did it, a grunt of exasperation underlying his frustration.

"Now, cut it out! I know your game, space-dude. You're just trying to manipulate me. But I'm not going to let you, 'cause I don't need this shit."

"Manipulate you?" Loki jerked away and pulled the bandana off his head, leaving lank strands of hair to fall into his eyes. He pushed them back and snarled, "Oh, of course. I was once a prince of Asgard, you know. A god. I even ruled for a short time. And yet, here I am, attempting to manipulate a mere mortal into sharing a meal with me. How? By falling on my knees and _debasing_ myself to him. Pathetic, isn't it? Very clever of you, seeing me for what I am. And, also so kind, rubbing it in my face this way. Well, don't worry. I won't trouble you again." With a cynical huff, Loki turned, and Tony could feel he was about to disappear.

"Wait!"

Loki paused, and then turned around. "What?"

"First of all, I don't give a damn who your daddy was, and yeah, you were a prince, but you were also a criminal, and guess what—I don't give a crap about that either. All I know is that I like you. I don't know why, you're obviously nothing but an enormous pain in the ass, but I do. And, if you would just be honest and quit pulling this kind of bullshit on me, I think we could get to be... something. Like you said that night."

He went up to Loki and put his hands on his shoulders. "And, by the way, much as I would love for you to do that thing you were about to do a few minutes ago—if you think I'd want it, knowing it made you feel debased? We've got a problem.

"And if you think I would ever _ask_ you to do something that makes you feel that way...? We've got an even bigger problem. So..." Tony rubbed a thumb over Loki's cheek, thinking of the way he'd woken in the night to feel a warm, invisible touch on his own. "...you tell me. Do we have a problem?"

Loki's stare burned into Tony's eyes, but then he shook his head slightly. "No. We have no problem."

A slow smile crossed Tony's face. "Good. Now, about dinner—I've got news for you, slugger, I can't take you to a five-star restaurant with you dressed like that. Not that it isn't hot—you're totally making me hard, here—but you look like you're ready to rock out at an Ozzy concert and that's frowned upon in our better Midgardian establishments."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Ozzy?"

"Don't give me that shit. You know who he is."

"Oh, yes. The fellow who bites the heads off of bats. I quite like him."

"Yeah."

"Well, I have other clothes."

"Okay, but there's something else. I'm Tony Stark. I go out to dinner, my picture ends up in the paper, along with whoever it is I'm dining with. We can't have that. All I need is for one of my buds to notice that I'm hanging out with the guy who caused a little minor interplanetary warfare, and then to let Fury in on it—"

Loki held up a hand. "I understand. You're saying a disguise of some sort is needed."

"Well, yeah. But, it's gotta be good, no fake mustache and Groucho glasses, you know."

Loki looked as if he were going to ask a question, but thought better of it. "Give me a minute."

Tony watched him stalk off. Puzzled, he followed and saw Loki duck into the bathroom._ Huh,_ Tony thought. Loki wasn't exactly shy about changing clothes in front of him, and he wasn't even sure that the Asgardian ever even _used_ the bathroom, to be honest, but he shrugged and went back to sit on the couch. Several minutes passed by and Tony began flipping through a magazine. After a while, he checked his watch and found that he'd been sitting there for nearly half an hour.

"Oh, shit," he thought. _Did Loki just dump him?_ If he did...

Tony got up and returned to the bathroom. "Hey, Reindeer Games—I'm sure you're pretty enough, let's go!"

He heard Loki moving around and in another minute, the door swung open.

Tony's jaw dropped.

Standing before him was the most striking woman he'd ever seen.

* * *

She was tall; her hair was blonde and fell in soft waves around her face. She wore a clingy red dress that was sexy as hell, but not in a slutty way. It hugged her perfect little firm high breasts—size of oranges, just enough to fill each palm, exactly like Tony liked 'em—and a tiny waist. Large green eyes dusted with fawn colored shadow and framed by long black lashes peered questioningly at Tony.

"Is this all right?" she asked in Loki's voice, breaking the spell. Tony blinked.

"Shit."

"Does that mean yes?"

"Uh... yeah. That's... pretty good. No one'll recognize you now."

"Good. Let's go, I'm starving."

"How did you—"

Loki raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "If you want details, I'll explain after dinner."

Tony nodded and followed his statuesque date to the door. He studied Loki's ass intently, unable to detect the slightest hint of panty line. "What're you wearing under there?"

Loki paused. "Come here."

Tony came up behind him. Without turning, Loki reached back and took Tony's hand. He pulled up his skirt and guided Tony's hand underneath it. Tony touched delicious silk over Loki's slim, well-muscled thigh. He ran his hand upward, but Loki stopped him with an iron grip before he made it to the curve of his buttock.

"That's enough for now," Loki said with a soft grin. "More later. After dinner." He turned enough for Tony to see his dark eyes glance at him under his lashes. "When we're in bed."

The sound Tony made was something between a purr and a hopeless groan, and he had to take a second before having Jarvis inform Happy that he needed to bring the car around right away.

* * *

The restaurant was crowded as they'd arrived at the peak of the dinner hour, but Tony simply said a word to the maitre-d' and they were immediately shown to a table. An appetizer appeared and wine was quickly poured for them. There didn't seem to be any reporters around, and the dinner patrons were all rich and snooty enough to barely take note of the Stark presence. That was good, Tony thought—that boded well for a peaceful evening.

Still, Tony felt a twinge of unease—Loki didn't look at all like himself, but it was still _him_ under that makeup and hair and dress. And, as far as Tony could tell, he certainly hadn't changed his personality. The horror of possibly running into someone he knew—and Tony knew a _lot_ of people—was that Loki would be his usual snarky, pain-in-the-ass self and create some kind of incident.

Which, Tony was pretty sure, would not go well.

But, they were each given a menu, and Loki was occupied with perusing his, and nobody was paying them any real attention, so Tony had almost allowed that last little muscle in his stomach to relax when a familiar female voice exclaimed, "Tony!"

He looked up to see Pepper standing at their table, with Bruce Banner at her side.

"Pep!" he said, rising to his feet. "And, Doc! Hey! What're you doing here?"

Banner smiled. "I'm helping Miss Potts organize a humanitarian effort in Africa. We've been working all day; she was kind enough to offer to take me to dinner."

"Yeah, that's my girl. And, gosh, I'm not at all hurt that I wasn't included." Tony gave Pepper a cheery smile. She was smiling too, but her eyes were on Loki, who looked up from his menu with a blank expression. Pepper turned her gaze back to Tony.

"I did invite you, Tony. Remember? You said you were too tired to go out." She glanced back at Loki, and then added, "In fact, you said you were going to stay in. Alone." She broadened her smile and nodded at Loki. "Yet, here you are! Who's this?"

"Oh! Uh... This is my friend, uh—"

"Lola." Loki half-rose from his chair and held out a beautifully manicured hand. His voice was his own, but soft, with a hint of an American Southern accent. Pepper shook his hand, and then Tony pulled himself together enough to continue with the introductions.

"Uh... Yeah! This is Lola. Lola, this is Pepper Potts and Bruce Banner."

Banner reached for Loki's hand. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. Have you known Tony long?"

"Oh, about a year now. We met at some conference or other. I always give him a ring when I'm in town, but we hardly ever get together, we're both so busy. Tonight was just... good luck."

"Right." Tony took a deep breath; to his relief, Loki didn't appear to be riled up by the man whose alter-ego had pretty well smashed the heck out of him a little over a year ago, and neither Bruce nor Pep seemed to have the slightest idea that Loki was anyone but yet another of Tony's eye-candy one-night stands.

A waiter had come to stand apologetically by their table. "I can come back, Mr. Stark," he said.

"No, no, please, go ahead and order," Pepper said. "I need to get Bruce back to his hotel room. It was lovely meeting you, Lola. You two have a nice evening." She gave Tony a slight smirk and then she and Bruce moved away, heading toward the exit.

Tony gave an audible sigh as he watched them leave. "Whew." He turned back and picked up his menu. He and Loki ordered, and once the waiter left, Tony reached out and squeezed Loki's hand. "Thank you."

"For what?" Loki asked in his normal voice.

"For putting on that little act. I don't think either of them suspected anything at all."

"Of course not." Loki got a bit of a dreamy look on his face. "Although, it was extremely tempting to... What do you think Banner would have done if he'd realized who I was?" he asked slyly.

"I... don't want to think about it."

"Oh, I do." Loki chuckled as he placed his napkin on his lap. "It would have been... most entertaining."

"You find repeatedly being slammed into concrete entertaining?"

Loki shrugged. "Oh, not so much. Been there, done that and all. But, he is a sight to behold in that state, don't you think?"

"You just concentrate on your calamari, young lady. No bringing out Hulk-boy tonight, understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Loki said, his eyes glittering emerald. He squeezed back on Tony's hand. "I guess I'll have to settle for whatever you decide to entertain me with tonight, eh?"

"I'll do my best to keep you from getting bored."

"I know you will." Loki took a sip of wine and then slowly ran his tongue around his delicately painted red lips. "I can hardly wait."

Tony thought of the slender thigh he'd had clasped in his hand for such a brief moment, and felt the napkin on his lap elevate with his erection.

* * *

Back at Stark Tower, Tony was positively strung out with lust. Loki had teased him mercilessly all evening—seductive looks, a hand on his thigh, a foot brushing against his calf, an unending string of double entendres that caused Tony to choke on his drink more than once. Just the way Loki moved was erotic; catlike grace with just a hint of naughtiness that was making Tony hot under the collar, although whether it was Loki's feminine appearance that was getting to him, or the fact that Loki was male—beautifully, deliciously male—underneath it all that drove him insane.

Assuming that he was indeed _still_ male.

Tony was under no illusions—he knew Loki could change his form to be anything he wanted. Not knowing exactly what he'd chosen to have in store for Tony once they finally made it to his bedroom was about as titillating a proposition as Tony had ever encountered.

He couldn't fucking wait.

Once they crossed the threshold of his bed chamber, Loki dropped his seduction act and grabbed Tony in a passionate embrace. He kissed him and let Tony run his hands over his body, up over his breasts, down over his hips and ass, but as soon as Tony attempted to slip his hands under Loki's clothes, he'd twist away with a reproving _tsk_.

"Now, now. Patience. Come, let's get comfortable." Loki lay down on Tony's bed.

"Jeeze, you're gorgeous."

"Yes? You like me this way?"

"Yeah..." Tony couldn't keep his hands off Loki's tits. He squeezed the immeasurably soft but firm little mounds, his breath was coming fast. "These real?" he rasped.

Loki put his hands on Tony's and sought his eyes. Once they were both still, he asked simply, "Do you want them to be?" It wasn't a leading question; it was as matter-of-fact as if he'd asked Tony if he wanted mustard on his sandwich.

Yet, Tony felt his answer was kind of important. It would have been easy to say, "Oh, hell, yeah!" Would have been out-of-this-world weird and sexy and bizarrely exciting, like nothing he'd ever experienced, he knew that. But, there was something in Loki's eyes that his words, his voice, didn't betray. And, Tony thought long and hard about his answer.

"No." He said it almost without realizing it, but he knew he meant it. "No, Loki. I like the guy I sat on the couch with, the one that ate pizza and watched football with me. The one I went to bed with. You're a damn knockout like this, but it's not you. I want... you. Okay?"

Tony thought Loki looked a little surprised, but then he smirked. He rummaged around in the front of his dress and pulled out a pair of silicon falsies."You're so easy, Stark. Did you really think they were the real thing?"

Tony leaned forward and kissed him. "No. I knew_ you_ knew you didn't have to fake it for me."

"Oh..." A tranquil expression came over Loki's face and he lay back. "Well, yes. Of course I did. Do you want me to... change?" He gestured at his makeup and hair.

"Yeah. All except the dress, and whatever it is you've got on under it. That's the kind of kinky fun I can get into." Tony grinned and Loki grinned back. He got up and went to Tony's bathroom. When he came out, he was back to Loki of the black hair and skinny body, but still clad in the snug red dress. He lay down again and Tony wasted no time pulling the skirt up around Loki's waist.

Revealing black thong panties and a lacy garter belt that held up sheer black silk stockings.

"Oh, fuck," Tony said with a wolf-whistle of appreciation. He slowly unsnapped the garters and slithered the silken hose down one leg, kissing along the inside of Loki's pale thigh as he went. He gave the other leg the same treatment, prudishly ignoring the swelling bulge in the front of Loki's underwear. He heard a low curse and Loki started to reach into the panties, but Tony caught his hand.

"Uh-uh, gorgeous. You don't touch that pretty cock of yours. Tonight, that belongs to me, along with everything else below the equator, and I don't want you to touch my stuff, _comprende?"_

Loki rolled his eyes. "You really are a tiresome bastard, aren't you? All right, as you wish. Hands off." Loki was propped up on his elbows and he raised both hands in defeat before plopping down flat on his back. "But you do intend to offer me a bit of genital stimulation _sometime_ in this millennium, don't you? Because, if not, I noticed Banner eyeing me with some interest. I wonder what he's like in the sack? Do you suppose he can fuck as the beast? Do you suppose anyone could survive it if he did? I—_Oh!"_

Loki's highly annoying musings were cut short when Tony yanked down the panties and buried Loki's cock in his mouth.


	4. Tony Incenses the God Again

**A/N: Short chapter, but smut! Reviews are greatly appreciated, by the way...**

* * *

Tony tended to Loki with long licks, teasing nips, and a lot of good deep oral action, which was, by the way, not his usual M.O.

At _all_.

In fact, he normally wouldn't be caught dead going down on another guy—he didn't mind it with women, and he loved receiving BJs so much he really, _really _didn't care if the giver was male or female—but Loki was in some rare category that went beyond gender, kind of the way Tony didn't like champagne, but found Dom Perignon absolutely delicious. So, when the panties came down and Loki's member popped out, impudent, half-hard and proud, putting it in his mouth just seemed to come naturally to Tony.

As did all the other lascivious things his mouth decided to do, once it was in there.

After a while, Loki gave a low hungry groan, impatiently thrusting up past Tony's comfort zone, and Tony irritably pulled back. "Hey, Shakespeare, that's rude. Can't you just lie there and appreciate what I'm doing for you for three goddamn minutes?"

"I'll appreciate you once you've actually begun to _fellate_ me... rather than this transparently facile attempt to... to merely shut me up..." In spite of his scornful words, Loki's voice had a bit of a happily strained quality to it. Tony looked up, amused.

"What the hell's wrong with what I've been doing?" Tony continued to use his hand to maintain attention to the task of driving Loki to distraction.

Loki cleared his throat, trying to sound as blasé as possible. "Nothing, if you're attempting to seal an envelope or... Or, affix a sheet of green stamps to a page." He managed to smother a whimper of pleasure.

"Green stamps! How do you even know about green stamps?"

Tony's hand never stopped, and Loki now gave a hum of appreciation, but raised himself on his elbows so he could look at Tony properly. "Thor is... inordinately fond of ancient Midgardian television programs. He recently forced me to—_by the gods, Stark, continue doing that_—to watch hours of something called 'TV Land,' while Jane Foster was out of town." Another groan escaped before he could add, "In return, I intend to injure him most grievously at the first opportunity."

Tony gave up on his efforts and laughed at the mental image of Loki being held captive by his big brother and forced to watch reruns of "The Brady Bunch."

"I don't blame you, kiddo. But, say, if you're so dissatisfied with the level of service I've been providing, maybe you should show me how it's done." Tony slid off the bed and undressed, and then lay down again, waggling his member invitingly.

Loki gave a huff of frustration. _"Stark!_ You bastard_._.. Well, fine. I suppose it's time someone demonstrated a bit of proper technique for you."

"Oh, I guess you've got skills in this department, eh?"

"I didn't earn the moniker 'Loki Silver-tongue' for my verbal abilities alone." With a long-suffering sigh, Loki pulled the dress over his head and then divested himself of bra, garter belt, panties, and stockings—much to Tony's regret, but he didn't protest as Loki lay down beside him, gripped the base of his cock in his long elegant fingers and settled into position so that he could comfortably take Tony in his mouth.

Tony had spent a lot of time imagining what Loki's icy lips and steamy warm mouth would feel like on that particular part of his anatomy, but Tony's imagination had poorly prepared him for the kind of pleasure he was instantly plunged into as Loki began his efforts.

It was insane, and when Loki gently rolled Tony's balls in his hand, Tony was sure he was a goner. But Loki abruptly pulled back and gave him a chastising look. "Oh, no. Look at this—" he said, gesturing at Tony's straining erection. "Do you really think I'm going to let it go to waste after doing all that work? Honestly, you should look into one of those Midgardian impotence aids, don't they sell little pumps to compensate for this unfortunate condition of yours?"

Tony gasped, "Okay, you need to get back to what you were doing, smart-ass, and by the way, my dick works just fine... At least it does when I don't have a goddamn extraterrestrial yammering on about some bullshit or other—"

Loki instantly pulled away and sat up. "Oh, forget it. I've lost interest by now. Where's the television remote? I'm in the mood for something _intellectually_ stimulating for a change, perhaps a bit of 'I Love Lucy' or 'Three's Company.' Or how about 'The Beverly Hillbillies? That's more on your level, I would think, given your current standard of living. Also, the sociological overtones in that one are quite interesting, I'm sure you can amply relate to it—Ackkk!"

Loki's jibe was cut off when Tony yanked him to him and buried his tongue in his mouth. He lay Loki down and kissed him, warm and wet and not _exactly_ rough, and after a moment, Loki's entire body seemed to give in and mold itself to Tony's. For all the sass he'd had to put up with from his alien-god lover, Tony was ready to fall into worship of the long limbs wrapped around him, the strong muscles rippling under him, and the sweetness of the kiss Loki was now bestowing upon him. He ran his hand over Loki's back and something about it struck his passion-addled mind as strange—he was _warm. _

Loki felt warm.

"Hey," Tony whispered. "Are you doing that thing?"

"What thing?" Loki whispered back.

"You know—that thing, where you warm your skin up for me."

Loki tilted his head and frowned, puzzled. "No—do I feel warm to you?"

Tony nodded.

Loki shrugged. "I have no idea what's causing that."

"Are you sick?" Tony put his palm on Loki's forehead, looking worried.

"No, I'm fine. What are you doing?"

"Oh—that's how we check for fever here on Midgard."

"Ah. No, I'm fine, Tony." Loki kissed him again. "Stop worrying and make love to me."

"But—"

Loki's eyes narrowed darkly. "It must be the heat of unsatisfied passion that warms my skin. I trust you're going to stop fretting and _do_ something about that? Or must I summon the televising device from its sleep after all?"

Tony chuckled. "Okay, okay, chill out. I'm on it." He returned to the kiss he'd interrupted, tenderly cradling Loki in his arms as he teased and caressed and prepared him with gentle fingers.

Loki whimpered at the sensations; for a moment, it seemed he was unsure how to respond to Tony's caring treatment. But then he pulled away and reached for the lube Tony had left on the nightstand. He poured some into his palm and slathered it onto Tony's erection, and then lifted himself to straddle his lover. He reached behind himself and guided Tony inside, his head thrown back, dark hair falling around his shoulders.

Tony couldn't help but notice that Loki's posture was as haughty and regal as always, in spite of the fact that he was allowing himself to be penetrated by a mere human being. Tony started to razz him about that, but he stopped as it occurred to him that this was who Loki _was—_a true prince, once a king, always a member of royalty, no matter how low his present circumstances might be. His manner was not an affectation, but a product of his birth and his rearing.

The thought was a little bewildering to Tony, native of a country long unaccustomed to the very notion of being ruled, and he found himself studying Loki's features with fascination. Then, all thought was forgotten as the god slowly lowered himself along Tony's thick member until he was seated; his slim thighs gripped Tony's waist, and Tony squeezed back affectionately. They stared into each other's eyes, and Loki smiled benevolently.

_I got no problem being your subject, Prince of Asgard-baby,_ Tony thought, grinning back. _Rule me hard, sweetheart..._

Loki then began rocking his hips, centering his energy on their joined bodies, and that made Tony moan as every nerve suddenly ignited—it was stunning, feeling himself inside that slick, clasping heat. He now watched Loki's beautiful face, the flutter of dark lashes, his mouth slightly open, a tinge of pink on his pale cheeks. It felt so good, not just the sex, but having Loki _want_ him, not for his body alone, but for his thoughts, his feelings... hell, his _jokes. _For a moment, Tony thought his heart would burst with joy; this was new, this was different, something so strong that he felt sure nothing and no one could ever take it away, almost as if...

Almost as if someone had cast a spell upon him.

_...Well, shit, _he thought. _Of course._ The revelation jolted Tony just as that pre-orgasmic heat was reaching his core. Magic... That would _totally_ explain how he, playboy Tony Stark, could have fallen so hard for another dude, which, normally, would _not happen, _I mean, sure, he'd had man-crushes before, but this was ridiculous...

It would also explain how he could have so easily come to overlook Loki's previous villainous behavior, what with the killing and the maiming and the wanton destruction and all. While he would like to think he was big enough of a person to respect Loki's rehabilitation, it was still kind of a hard thing to just _ignore,_ and here he was, hardly ever even thinking about it at all anymore.

Not when Loki was in his arms, for sure.

Tony frowned. He looked up at the god, who was now shifting forward, about to bend to kiss Tony, and without a fraction of a second's consideration, Tony blurted out, "Hey—have you done some kind of magic mumbo-jumbo thing on me or something?"

Loki paused, every muscle stilled. He looked into Tony's eyes, bewildered. _"What?" _

"You know, like, an enchantment spell to make me go all gaga over you? I mean, I guess it's okay, it feels nice, I'd just like to know what I'm dealing with here, deprived of free will and all, and I—"

Abruptly, Loki rolled off and sat beside Tony, facing him. He had a look on his face that Tony _seriously_ didn't know how to interpret, and they were both quiet for a moment. Then, Loki began speaking matter-of-factly, sounding like a professor giving a lecture.

"There are two predominant types of enchantments having to do with sex and romance. One is a simple lust spell. It creates an overwhelming need to rut in the subject, and an experienced sorcerer can direct the being's attention to himself or to someone else, as needed. It's mostly used as a form of distraction, or if the sorcerer is simply attracted to the subject, but doesn't wish to waste time wooing him or her.

"The other is a love spell. It doesn't work the way you might think. It can't create a feeling of love where none exists; it can only drive away whatever obstacles exist in the subject's mind which are preventing him or her from accepting their true feelings. It is extremely powerful and long-lasting, and requires much time and great attention to detail in order to formulate it correctly. It would not be entered into lightly." Loki's gaze had been trained on the wall behind Tony's head, but now he turned a laser-like look at Tony, and a thunderous expression came over him.

"And, if you think I find it necessary to stoop to such tactics to receive an invitation into your bed, you are even more of an egomaniacal, narcissistic, delusional _nitwit _than I originally thought. _Fuck you,_ Tony Stark." He stood up, all serpentine grace and fluid moves, and then he was dressed in his leathers, his eyes sparking fire. "I don't give a tinker's damn if you like me, or care about me, or even if you continue to want to bed me. I've been thrown out of better places than this _many times, _and I will be again—"

Tony was beginning to regret his inelegant approach to his query and he hastily stood up and reached for Loki's shoulders. "Now, hold on there, hot shot, calm down. I didn't mean to—"

Loki stepped back, evading Tony's touch. "To answer your inane question, _no, _you are under no sort of enchantment and believe it or not, whatever _feelings _you might harbor toward me are of your own device. Good luck with that, and to hell with your puling ways. Find someone else to warm your bed and suck your cock. I'm _done."_

In a flash of lightning, Loki was gone, leaving nothing but a sputter of electricity in the air where he had stood.

* * *

**A/N#2: ...yeah, not to be whiny, but the last chapter only got one review (thank you, Nebs!), which made me wonder if you all are really enjoying this story. I love faves and follows, don't get me wrong, but they don't allow me to interact with you or give me clues as to what, if anything, you like about the fic or how to improve... **


	5. Thor, God of Helpfulness

**A/N: Okay, you guys are the BEST. Thank you so much for the reviews, you really restored my confidence. So, no more whining on my part, woo-hoo! **

**Anyway—this is a pretty short chapter, but the next one is close to done so it should be up pretty quickly. **

* * *

Loki departed from Stark Tower with as much anger roiling in his belly as he'd felt in many an age. So much of that dangerous emotion had been tamed within him through the therapeutic methods of his healer on Asgard, and more was kept in check with the draught he took once a year on the eve of the first winter moon. But, there was always a trace of it simmering within his soul, and damn it to Hel, Tony Stark had a way of bringing it out of him like no other.

He teleported himself to what was known as the Midgardian state of New Mexico, appearing on an isolated butte a little over a mile from the home of Jane Foster. He sat cross-legged on the rocky ground there, the lonely dark making him feel small, yet oddly safe. He stared up into the star-peppered sky and forced himself to take some peace from it so he could examine what, exactly, it was that had upset him so.

Tony Stark was an_ ass. _He knew that about him; he knew he could expect some sort of absurd nonsense to spew forth from his lips at any given time, so why was he so surprised? Why was he so disturbed to find that he was still no closer to winning the foolish human's trust than he'd been when he first came to apologize to him?

Perhaps doing so was simply an impossibility, given Stark's past experiences. Perhaps the trust had been driven out of him in a cave in Afghanistan...

Loki fumed about that for a bit, but as he calmed, another painful thought occurred to him.

_Perhaps he was simply such a poor excuse for an Æsir that he would never again be worthy of _anyone's_ trust, if indeed he ever had been to begin with. _

Of course, trusting others was a luxury he himself had long ago learned to do without.

Loki had had many lovers in his life, both male and female. The first, one of his mother's handmaidens, had taught him the joys of physical pleasure, as well as an equally valuable lesson—the folly of ever trusting anyone offering him friendship, kindness, or affection under the guise of caring for him.

The girl had been beautiful and sweet, and young Loki had been quite taken with her, quite flattered and pleased that she chose him over his powerfully-built, golden-haired brother, who had women of all ages and social classes hanging on him at every turn. Loki had dared to hope that something strong and lasting would come of their dalliance, for even though the Æsir were not permitted to marry someone of common stock, it was perfectly acceptable for them to have a lifetime union with one, in addition to or instead of a spouse.

But, Loki eventually discovered that the girl wanted not him, but to influence his use of magic in order to take revenge on a previous lover. The realization had infuriated him, causing him to demand that his mother dismiss her immediately, but Frigga had wisely taken him aside and gently questioned him until she learned the truth. She'd explained to him that the girl had hurt him deeply, and it was that pain that was fueling his anger. But Loki hadn't cared about reasons at the time, and he'd vowed never to allow another to take away his pride and self-respect in that way.

After that, he'd learned to cast a skeptical eye on anyone ill-advised enough to woo him. He'd learned to use his power, his pretty face, and his silver tongue to get whatever he wanted, and to then leave his lovers behind long before they had the chance to do the same to him. He gave only what pleased him, or was absolutely necessary to win whatever prize it was he desired.

In time, he'd hardened his heart again and again until it was crusted over with solid rock, until no one could gain entrance.

And, now, stupidly, he'd just begun to let Tony Stark chip away at it, only to find once again that his very nature, the essence of who he was, was nothing more than a trifling diversion to the man, a carnival amusement tied to suspicion and distrust.

By the _gods,_ he'd never again step foot in Tony Stark's presence. Not by his own volition, anyway. The man could go fuck himself with a rusty railroad spike for all he cared, no matter how kind he'd been to him, no matter how intelligent and funny he might be to converse with, no matter how much Loki had liked being held in his strong arms, liked being touched and caressed by his gentle hands...

He let out a shaky breath, rubbed his eyes and brushed his hair away from his face, and wondered if Thor was in the odd little house on wheels that Jane Foster inexplicably chose to inhabit. For all their differences, Thor was the one person in the world he could still count on to receive him with some degree of pleasure and the one person who would allow him to keep company with him for an entire evening, assuming his lady friend was not present. He looked toward the yellow lights of the little abode and decided to take a chance.

He walked there; moving his limbs felt good, and it gave him more time to think, to let his tempest of emotions settle into a sort of numbness in the pit of his stomach. As he approached, he saw his brother sitting outside, tending a small fire in a makeshift pit. Thor looked up and saw him; a huge grin crossed his handsome face.

"Loki! My brother, how good it is to see you! Come, join me here by the fire and tell me what you've been up to as of late." He rose and wrapped Loki in a strangling embrace, which Loki didn't really mind, but he pulled away as quickly as possible in pretended annoyance and gave his brother a curt nod.

"Thor." Loki took a seat in a flimsy looking "lawn chair," as they were apparently called, stretching his legs out before him. "Where is your woman?"

"She's doing something known as 'field work' tonight and will not return until the morrow. So, you are free to 'hang out' with me for the entire night!" Thor's happy booming voice filled the night air and Loki rolled his eyes.

"Thank you for the kind invitation, but that will not be necessary. I simply wished to pass a few moments in the relative safety of this forsaken land to collect my thoughts."

Thor nodded understandingly and clamped a large hand on his brother's shoulder before asking, "Would you care for food or drink? I have beer... and leftover chicken wings from my dinner. They are quite spicy, you might enjoy them."

"No, I want for nothing—just silence," Loki answered pointedly.

"You seem troubled," Thor observed, disregarding Loki's subtle request. "What's wrong?"

Loki was tempted to unload the pain in his heart onto his brother, but in spite of Stark's idiocy, he didn't want to reveal the nature of their relationship just yet, so he simply said, "I'm very tired, brother, that's all."

Thor sat back in his chair and joined Loki in staring up at the sky. "Beautiful, isn't it? So different from the view in Asgard..." Thor instantly felt bad. He knew Loki missed his home and it always made him sad to speak of it. But Loki just nodded.

"Yes. The universe is so vast... It's strange not to have a place in it." His words held no tinge of bitterness, just a bit of wistfulness.

"How do you spend your time, Loki?" Thor asked gently. It was a question he had wondered many times, but had always feared to ask.

"I travel among—and beyond—the nine realms. I find a form pleasing to the indigenous populace wherever I go and assume it for a time; I learn their culture and customs, and find food and drink as I may. It is a blessing to have been allowed to keep my magic—I can conjure local currency as necessary. When I tire of the deception, I move on."

Thor realized he was staring at his brother with pity; for all of Loki's tendency toward mayhem and mischief, he had always had a focus, a purpose in life. Now, he sounded so adrift, so lonely, that it hurt Thor in his soul. "Do you not befriend the beings you discover?"

Loki laughed. "That is rarely an option. Aside from Asgard and Midgard, the other realms are typically very insular and most are thinly populated; a stranger attempting to curry favor would be looked upon with utmost suspicion. No, the chance of getting myself into trouble is too great—and you know what Odin will do if I create a disturbance anywhere in the universe."

Thor turned away and went back to his sky-gazing, letting Loki's words waft around in his brain. Thor wasn't stupid; he was a master of battle strategy, quick to size up an opponent's strengths and weaknesses, but he hadn't had much practice in the kinder art of offering guidance to those struggling with psychological and emotional turmoil. Still, he longed to help his brother.

The two sat silently for a long time. Loki was just about to rise to his feet, happy to have had a brief respite, but just then Thor said, "Loki? I may have a proposition for you..." and after a moment's hesitation, Loki stayed to listen to him.

* * *

Okay, so, the last time it happened? Tony was pretty sure that that was the last time it would _ever _happen, and he was almost right.

Loki's parting words—_I'm done_—were about as final as anything Tony had ever heard in his life, and while he spent quite a bit of time talking to the air again, he didn't get one single vibe that the hot dude from Asgard was listening to anything that he said.

Or that he even wanted to.

In fact, after chewing on the problem for over a week, Tony was feeling less and less hopeful that Loki would ever give him a chance to plead his case, and he spent his time alternating between gut-wrenching despair and righteous anger over that all-too-likely possibility.

On the one hand, Tony really was nuts about the guy. He liked everything about him—his looks, his brain (well, apart from that unfortunate insanity thing of course, but he really did seem to be doing just fine in the not-wanting-to-subjugate-the-human-species-anymore department, so Tony was willing to call that a win), his wit, and that weird _something_ underneath it all, that kind of lost-in-the-funhouse vulnerability that got Tony feeling all protective and caring and worried and stuff.

The bizarre fact that Loki could turn himself into an incredibly hot babe at will was deliciously kinky as well, but Tony knew that was just icing on an already mind-blowingly wonderful cake, and that he was one damn lucky bastard to have him in his life at all.

But, on the other hand, what the hell was the matter with the temperamental little shit, anyway? Was it really that hard to cut him some slack, just because he'd asked one unbelievably stupid question?_ I mean, isn't that the key to a good relationship—slack-cutting? ...Uh-oh._ _Relationship? Did I really just think "Loki" and "relationship" in the same thought bubble?_ he wondered.

The idea was really scary, but after stewing over it for a couple more days, he decided he kind of liked it.

Which would have been just peachy, if only he could ever have the opportunity to be in the same room with the demented little bastard in order to pursue such a thing. And, it was beginning to look as if he wouldn't. Ever.

No, he knew he'd have to do some world-class groveling to get Loki to forgive him, and the only way to do that was to get him to _talk _to him, and that was...

Not happening.

So, somehow he'd have to get a message to Thor and talk him into mediating for him, all without actually explaining to the God of Thunder that his new bestest buddy, Tony "Man of Iron" Stark, had been repeatedly playing hide-the-salami with his mentally ill little brother.

And, eventually, he came up with some thoughts on how to go about doing that. He even figured out just what to say, too.

But, the entire problem was rendered moot one evening when he blithely walked into his living room after a long day of meetings, ready to lose himself in some football and vodka, only to find Thor standing there, bearing a beaten and bloody Loki in his arms.


	6. Wake Up and Stop Bleeding

**A/N: Um, well, this chapter contains a description of a kind of home surgery situation, heh. Just in case such things squick you out...**

**Please review!**

**Seds**

* * *

"What... the... _fuck...?"_ Tony gasped. He was beyond shocked; Loki looked dead. His already pale features were almost translucent wherever there wasn't a scrape or bruise, and his hair was matted with blood behind one ear. He lay limply in Thor's arms as if unconscious.

Thor, Tony noticed once he was able to pull his eyes off of Loki, wasn't exactly in pristine condition either. He had dirt all over him and a deep nick on his chin, and his right arm had been slashed open across his bicep. But, all his concern was for his little brother. The expression on his face was heartbreaking—he cast a pleading look at Tony.

"Man of Iron, I beg you—may I claim safe harbor for my brother here in your abode? He is most grievously wounded and we have nowhere else to go."

"Yeah, yeah, of course! Put him on the couch. I'm calling a doctor—"

Thor carefully lay Loki down, but shot Tony a sharp look. "No! Your Midgardian healers can do nothing for him. I must go to Asgard immediately and seek assistance. He will be all right for the nonce—his magic is keeping him alive." With that bit of information, Thor took off in a shockwave of thunder.

Tony stared at the phone in his hand for a moment, then decided that Point Break was probably right, and anyway, the only doctor he could call, given S.H.E.I.L.D.'s attitude toward Loki, was Banner and God only knew where the hell he was and how he would react. Tony strode to Loki and knelt beside him. "Hey, tough guy. What the fuck happened to you?"

Loki's eyes fluttered open and one side of his mouth tugged upward. "Hello... human," he managed to whisper. Tony had never heard him sound so broken.

"Jesus, Loki. Where are you hurt?"

Loki had one hand on his side; he looked down, indicating the location of the wound.

"Let me see." All Tony could make out was that Loki's traveling clothes were shredded and soaked in blood around his hand.

Loki shook his head as well as he could. "N-no... Keeping my lifeblood from seeping out... can't move my hand..." He swallowed thickly and shut his eyes again.

Tony felt emotion well up in his throat. Loki couldn't die in front of him, he wouldn't allow it. He gently caressed Loki's bruised cheek. "There's got to be something I can do to help you," he said softly.

Loki smiled without opening his eyes. "Stay..." was all he said. Suddenly, his features went slack and his blood-covered hand dropped to his side. As he'd predicted, more blood came out, thick, wet, dark red.

Tony thought he would lose it, but he ran to the bathroom and came back with a bath towel. He pressed it onto Loki's side, not even noticing that tears were welling up in his eyes. "Stay with me, man. You gotta do it, you can't leave me again. Jesus, Loki, I just got you back! Stay with me, stay with me..." He murmured more such commands, hoping that by the sheer force of his will that Loki would live.

It seemed like forever, but Thor soon returned. He had a small glass vial in his hand. He pulled the cork from it, and without a word, he pushed Tony aside and stuck one arm under Loki's shoulders, lifting him into a half-sitting position which would have hurt like hell if he'd been conscious, and managed to pour the liquid down Loki's throat.

"What is that stuff?" Tony asked.

"A potion to keep Loki's magic strong. Although..." Thor stared down at his brother's still features. "...it may be too late."

"No, it's not." Tony crowded in beside Thor and took Loki's hand, pressing it tightly between his own. "Now, you listen to me, you smart-ass little twerp. You're going to be fine. This medicine shit is doing its work, and you're getting stronger every second, understand? So, wake up and stop bleeding, damn it!"

Whether the potion worked so quickly or whether Tony's words actually got through to Loki's mind was hard to say, but his eyes opened under heavy lids, staring unfocused for a moment. Then he blinked and seemed to come to. He glanced down at his wound, which was still seeping blood onto Tony's couch. He lay his hand on it and Tony thought he saw a little gold spark flash under the god's fingers. The blood stopped.

Loki had been breathing shallowly, but he took in a long, deep breath and spoke. "Thor, get out of here. I must mend my injuries and I don't want you standing around wringing your hands. Go heat some water and find some cloths, that's not beyond your mental capacities, is it?"

"I am not leaving your side, brother, I—"

"Thor." Tony looked into the thunder god's eyes. "He doesn't want you to see him like this. Go, get the stuff he wants. I'll stay with him."

Thor looked bewildered, but then he nodded and rose to go find Tony's kitchen. Tony looked back at Loki.

"Thank you," Loki whispered, clearly exhausted from his little speech.

"I'm going to help you—just tell me what you need."

"Help me... sit up a bit. I need to remove my coat." Clearly in agony, Loki tried to raise himself, and Tony quickly got beside him and began working the heavy leather and metal garment away from Loki's shoulders. Once it was off, Tony could see that the silken shirt underneath had been ripped apart, finally allowing him to see Loki's wound. Tony blanched; Loki's skin was torn wide open just below his ribs, skin hanging in bloody shreds around an opening that revealed Loki's intestines, which were also torn and bleeding. A human would have been long dead from such an injury, and Loki didn't appear to be far from it.

"What can I do?" Tony asked in a whisper.

"Just stay here. Talk to me." Loki seemed to be in deep concentration, gathering what little strength he had.

"What are you going to do?"

"I must... mend each tear in my entrails."

Tony's eyes went wide. "Wait a minute—you're going to...?"

Loki barely nodded, and then he stuck his own hand inside his wound, fingering the wrecked organs. He made a choked sound, and Tony couldn't even begin to imagine how much pain the god might be in. Without thinking, he helped Loki find a better position so that he could maneuver inside his body cavity and he watched Loki's blood-slicked fingers trace each little seeping tear; every time he found one, he'd pinch it closed and Tony could see the edges of flesh knit together, emitting tiny sparks of gold.

He glanced at Loki's face every now and again. His skin was drained of all color and the god's forehead was glistening with sweat. Tony reached for a box of tissues and swabbed the moisture away so it wouldn't run into Loki's eyes.

Eons seemed to pass by, but Loki kept at it. Finally, he looked at Tony. "There's one more..." he said in a gravelly voice. "Inside me. The pain... I can't focus. Can you find it? Put my finger on it."

Tony stared at him in horror. "You want me to... look in there? At your _guts?"_

Loki managed a thoroughly disgusted sneer. "No, I was hoping you'd check my scalp for head lice. Yes, Tony, find the last tear or I won't be able to stop the internal bleeding." He shifted, offering Tony better access to his innards.

Tony had seen battle wounds before, but he'd never been in a position to do anything about them, and to be honest, he was already a little queasy. But, what Loki was asking of him was nothing compared to what the god had already been through, so he decided he'd better just man up and see where the last tear was inside Loki's entrails.

It was sickening work, and he couldn't see anything without... _touching_ the wounded organ, but finally he saw a raw tear seeping blood. "Here," he croaked. He took Loki's index finger and placed it on the wound.

Loki looked close to losing consciousness, but he did the gold-sparking thing, and the last little tear was closed and no more blood appeared. Loki took a moment to breathe, and then said, "Help me close the exterior wound."

That had to be a walk in the park compared to what Tony had just experienced, and it turned out not to be too bad. He helped Loki pull the torn edges of skin toward each other so they met, and then he held them in place while Loki pressed his fingers to them, letting them ravel together before Tony's eyes. Once he finished, the wound was an angry raw, raised pattern on the pale flesh of Loki's torso, but the blood no longer came, and the god appeared to be stable.

Tony helped him lie back, watching him draw in ragged breaths in the after-shock of his ordeal.

"Thank you," Loki whispered. "I must rest now."

"Sure, kiddo. Go to sleep. You did great."

Loki was already out.

"Thor!" Tony called.

The worried blond god came striding in. "Yes? Is he...?"

"He's all right. Get those wet cloths and a big bowl of water and let's clean him up, okay? Oh, but first we need to move him. It's no good having him out here where Pepper or somebody might barge in."

"Where shall we take him?"

"My bedroom."

Thor had a confused look. "Do you not have many bedchambers in your palace?"

Tony started to say, "Yeah, but I don't want him waking up in an unfamiliar place," but he caught himself, saying lamely instead, "Yeah, but that one's the closest, and I have lots of... pillows. He's going to need pillows. Look, just give me a hand, will you? Grab his coat."

Thor went to pick Loki up, but Tony had already gathered him into his arms and lifted him. He met Thor's eyes. "Your arm. You don't need to be carrying him." And, really, without his coat on, Loki hardly weighed anything.

Tony led Thor to his bedroom and the blond man placed the bowl of water and cloths on the nightstand before pulling back the covers. Tony lay Loki on the bed and then they worked together to pull off his muddy, blood-stained boots and to get him out of his ruined shirt and bloody trousers. Once they got them off, they stared down at the injured man, shocked at how many bruises and contusions littered the rest of his body. Even his underwear was drenched with blood. Tony took a wet cloth from Thor and began carefully cleaning his lover, first the wound, then his hands, then his face, dipping the cloth in the bowl each time, making the water turn a bright crimson color.

"Look in that top drawer and find me a t-shirt and some underwear, will you? He wouldn't like to wake up in dirty clothes."

Thor did as requested and then helped Tony pull off Loki's blood-soaked underthings, leaving him nude. Tony grabbed a fresh cloth to clean him as Thor looked on with an uncertain expression. "You're very kind to care for my brother in this way, especially considering the harm he brought to your realm."

"Yeah, well, we've kind of been working through all that."

Thor raised an eyebrow. "You have? He never mentioned it."

Tony shrugged. "It hasn't exactly been smooth sailing." Eager to change the subject, Tony gestured for the clean clothes. "Give me a hand getting him dressed."

Once they had Loki relatively clean, dressed, and settled under the covers, Tony led Thor to a sitting area under a window, far enough away that their discussion couldn't be overheard by the unconscious god and possibly disturb his rest. Tony gave Thor a dark look. "What the hell happened to him, man?"

Thor's face crumpled and he pressed his fingers into his eyes. "It's all my fault. All my fault my little brother nearly died..."

"Okay, okay, that doesn't matter now. Tell me what happened."

Thor pulled himself together and took a deep breath. "I've been so worried about him. He's been so... lost. I know he craves purpose, something that will challenge his considerable skills and talents. So, when a recent situation came up, I thought of him."

"What was it?"

"There is a small realm beyond Asgard, a province of ours which my father has ruled for many ages. But, some time ago he decided to put its governance in the hands of one of his lieutenants. There were rumors of mismanagement and later, corruption. Lately, there has been 'chatter,' I believe you call it, to the effect that conditions have so deteriorated that an uprising was imminent. Father ordered me to pay the realm a visit, to try to determine what exactly was going on and to help him decide a proper course of action.

"Loki and I used to visit there in our youth, and I knew I would be recognized. I knew I would not be given an accurate portrayal of conditions there, either due to fear or favor. So, after hearing Loki's habit of traveling among the realms, taking on an inconspicuous form and living among the natives, I knew he could help me. I asked him to take on the task of investigating for me."

"Okay, so he was spying for you."

"He was my eyes and ears for three of your Midgardian weeks. At the end of that time, he contacted me to have me join him. He wanted me to see with my own eyes the deplorable conditions he'd discovered. When I arrived, I found that Loki had returned to his normal form. What neither of us knew was that our previous conversation had been overheard by an insurgent—and a party was lying in wait. Poor Loki got there first, and was immediately attacked.

"The inhabitants are not so different in appearance from humans and are normally a placid people, but they are vicious fighters when provoked and they have a beast of battle... it is something like the Midgardian rhinoceros, I believe, but somewhat lighter and more agile. One came out of nowhere and I failed to notice it charging me from behind. Loki pushed me out of the way... There is a large curved spike on its snout, and it was that which impaled Loki. He was weary from battle, and could not move from its path quickly enough.

"He fought most valiantly, Tony, using only a wooden staff as his weapon. Our father would have been enormously proud of him. He... he saved my life."

They both fell silent, Thor clearly still seeing the horror of the battle running through his mind's eye, Tony trying to absorb all the information Thor had just given him. Then he asked, "Wait a minute—why didn't Loki, you know, smite the heck out of all those fuckers with his magic?"

Thor shook his head sorrowfully. "Part of the terms of Loki's freedom is that he is not to use his magic against any being in any realm for any reason. If he does, he will instantly be returned to the dungeons of Asgard, with no hope of release."

A harsh frown darkened Tony's face. "Not even for self-defense?" he demanded.

"No. Not even for that."

Tony felt like tearing something apart. "What kind of sadistic asshole is this Odin bastard anyway?"

"I cannot bring to question my father's decisions!" Thor cried out painfully. "He knows what is best, what is right."

"So, his youngest boy is doomed to wander around the cosmos unable to defend himself? Kind of sounds like he wants to see him dead, one way or another."

"He believed that, knowing magic was not permitted, Loki would choose his adventures carefully, thereby avoiding getting himself mixed up in conflicts among other worlds."

"Yeah, well, then he made the mistake of listening to you, huh?"

A sick look came over Thor, and he nodded. "Yes. But, I swear to you, Tony Stark—I never imagined that there was such an organized and retaliatory element on what was once a peaceful planet. I would never have brought Loki into it if I'd known." He stood up and went to Loki's side, Tony trailing behind him.

Thor gently brushed a lock of hair away from Loki's forehead. "You were always so brave, my brother. From the time we were small, no matter how grave your disadvantage, you'd throw yourself into battle by my side with no thought of the consequences." He raised his eyes to Tony's. "Once he learned to use magic, he became as formidable an opponent as I. But, he was chastised and ridiculed for it, made to feel such tactics brought dishonor to our family.

"So, he learned to fight without it, and no one is as swift and clever in battle as Loki. But, he simply lacks the strength and endurance to go for long without sorcery. I always feared something like this would happen... I just never dreamed I would be the one to bring it upon him." Thor sighed, and then suddenly lifted his head as though he was listening to a voice in his head. He turned to Tony and said, "I must go, Man of Iron. May my brother stay here for the night? He should be better in the morning. I will return as soon as possible to check on him, but it may be some time before I can."

"Yeah, it's fine, but do you have any more of that stuff you gave him? He might need another dose, huh?"

Thor reached into his vest. "I do. But, this is not easy to come by, and he really shouldn't need it. I would prefer you put it away and save it until such time as it is drastically called for—another day such as this one. Which I hope to the Norns will never come again." With that, Thor left Tony's room and a clap of thunder signaled his departure.

Tony turned back to Loki. Some of the ugliest abrasions on his face were fading. Tony carefully lifted his shirt to examine the hideous wound in his side. It was still red and moist looking, but seemed to be healing. Tony said Loki's name softly, but got no response. He covered him up again and went to get ready for bed.

He pulled over one of the easy chairs and an ottoman to the bedside; he would have preferred to lie down next to Loki, but he was afraid his presence would disturb the god's rest, and anyway, after the way Loki had left his bed the last time, he wasn't sure he would appreciate Tony taking the liberty of sleeping next to him without being asked if he minded.

Tony settled for clasping his hand in his. He propped up his feet, stretched out, and was soon as unconscious as his injured guest.


	7. Weak Magic

**A/N: No warnings for this chapter other than a bit of angst mixed with extreme fluffiness. Reviews are most welcome!**

* * *

Young Thor and Loki stood in a glorious sunny field, so different from Asgard's dark forests. There were so many flowers, vivid and aromatic, like nothing they'd ever seen before. Little insects flew around them, creating a comforting buzzy noise. Small animals scampered about, some curious and unafraid enough to come near and sniff the boys' hands. Even the birds were different there—tiny and colorful, making sweet music, so unlike the large predatory raptors they knew at home.

"It's all right, lads," their father had said. "You may explore all you like, it's quite safe here on the governor's grounds. Just don't go beyond the wall. I'll be right inside—speak to a guard if you need anything." Odin had then given each of his young sons a squeeze on the shoulder before turning and heading into the huge old palace that was now the political hub of the realm of Trondheim.

Loki was happy to walk quietly, eager to observe more of the beauty of this different world, but Thor quickly became bored. "See that tree, Loki? I bet I can reach it before you. Let's race."

There weren't many physical challenges at which Loki could hope to beat Thor, but when it came to running, Thor tended to be a bit of a plodder, while Loki was fast and nimble, giving him an advantage in spite of his much shorter legs. After considering the distance, he thought he might have a chance. He nodded. "All right. You count."

Thor grinned, pleased that Loki had accepted his challenge. "All right—ready yourself. One... two... three, _go!"_ The boys took off and Loki made it to the tree ahead of Thor by a hair.

"I won!" he gasped, laughing in surprised delight.

"That you did, brother. But, I bet you can't _climb_ this tree."

Loki's joy quickly dissipated as he looked up at the gnarled old tree. The lowest branch was several inches out of reach for him, while Thor could grab it easily. Loki shook his head. "I won't bet you, brother. There's no way I can get up there, I'm too small." He sighed, and went to sit down on the grass to watch his brother exhibit his superior strength and agility. "You go ahead."

If this had been back in Asgard, and if Thor's friends had been with them, the bigger kids would have already clambered up into the waiting branches, leaving Loki alone on the ground, probably mocking him for being smaller and too afraid to even attempt to climb.

But now, Thor glanced from the enticing arms of the tree to his little brother. "You can do it, Loki. I'll help you."

"Don't be an idiot. I'll just fall, and then we'll both be in trouble."

"You won't fall—I won't let you. Come on, try."

Loki gave Thor a dubious look, but stood up and approached the tree. He stared up at the lowest branch and, knowing it was useless, strained upward to reach it. His fingertips didn't even graze it. He shook his head again, more adamantly this time.

"You see? I can't."

"Yes, you can. Here..." Thor came over and grasped Loki around his legs. He lifted him easily, and Loki was able to grab hold, pull himself up, and throw one leg over the branch. From there, he had no trouble negotiating his way to the crook of the tree and wedging himself in. He was panting with the exertion, but was smiling excitedly.

"I did it, Thor! Oh, it's wonderful up here. You can see everything!"

Thor laughed, pleased. He wouldn't admit it, but he liked seeing Loki happy. He quickly climbed up and joined him. He followed Loki's gaze and gave a low whistle. "It's brilliant! The whole realm stretches before us. I wonder what lies beyond that wall."

Loki shot him a disapproving look. "It makes no difference. Father told us to stay within it. You would not be so stupid as to disobey him... Would you?" Loki asked, a touch of horror in his voice as he realized that that was _exactly _what Thor intended to do.

"No, of course not. But, it can't hurt to take a closer look, can it? Come on, let's go." Thor let himself down by holding onto the low branch and then dropping softly to the ground. Loki bit his lip worriedly, but he followed, landing a bit harder, having farther to fall. He lost his balance and ended up on his bottom, unhurt but feeling decidedly foolish. He looked up to see Thor running toward the fence, already many yards away from him.

"Wait for me, Thor!" Loki shouted, scrambling to his feet. "Wait! I'm coming!"

Loki took off, sprinting after his brother. He paused in disgust as he saw Thor leap over the thick stone fence. He grit his teeth, thinking, "I know I'm going to regret this," but he raced as fast as he could to join his errant sibling. He wasn't big enough to simply vault himself over, but he was able to scramble up and drop down onto the other side.

"Thor?" he called. He looked to his right and then to his left, but couldn't see Thor anywhere. He took a few tentative steps forward, and spotted his brother lying on the ground. A thin man with long black hair was standing above him, a knife glinting in his hand.

"_Thor!" _Loki shouted. "You must get up! _Hurry!" _

The man raised the blade above his head, clearly intent on plunging it into the fallen blond-haired boy.

"_No!_ _Stop!_ Don't hurt him!" Loki took off running, Not pausing to consider his size, Loki launched himself at the man, attacking him with his fists and all the strength and fury his small frame contained. He was yelling as he landed each vicious blow, but the man only laughed and shook him off, dropping him flat on his back beside Thor. He then brought the knife down in a graceful arc, piercing the flesh of young Thor's belly.

Terrified, Loki looked up. The man was standing over him, laughing as the blade dripped blood onto the ground, and Loki saw he was himself as a grown man. The boy shook his head and whispered _"No..." _He looked over at Thor, who was lying still, his eyes closed, blood pouring from his belly.

"Thor!" the boy Loki screamed, tears streaming from his eyes. He screamed his brother's name over and over again until he felt a hand on his arm.

Loki woke up.

* * *

"Thor," Loki gasped weakly. It came out barely a whisper, although he felt as if he were still screaming.

"Easy there, tough guy. Big brother's run off for a while, you'll have to make do with little ol' me." Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at Loki with concern. "Bad dream, huh?"

"What?" Loki's vision was blurred and he blinked until things came into focus. A dull ache in his side turned into a sharp stab of pain as he tried to sit up. He grimaced, but managed to say, "Oh. It's you, Stark. How the hell did I end up in your bed again?"

Tony's worried frown disappeared. He'd heard Loki cry out, and he'd had trouble getting him to let go of his dream world. Now, he smiled in relief to hear one of Loki's typically snarky remarks. He reached out a hand and gently smudged away a tear that had run down Loki's cheek.

"Oh, you know, a little wine, a little dance, a little song. Naturally, you found me irresistible. That and the gaping hole in your gut, which I had the pleasure of exploring. You really are fun on a date, you know that? No wonder you're so popular." Tony's eyes were twinkling, and Loki tried to follow the meaning behind his teasing words and to make sense of his jumbled memories. Things began to fall into place, although a lot of it was still fuzzy.

"That was... _not_ a date." Loki again struggled to sit up, but it hurt too much. He lay back, panting. "However, if you want to show me a good time, help me go to the bathroom. My bladder's about to burst."

The worried look crossed Tony's face again. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, gorgeous. All those magical stitches inside you—a couple of 'em might come loose, then Dr. Tony'd have to wash up and go in again, and I gotta tell you, internal medicine is not my specialty, not _that_ kind of internal, anyway."

"I'll be fine. Just help me get up."

Tony reluctantly came around the other side of the bed and leaned down. Loki weakly wrapped his arms around Tony's neck and Tony grasped him around the waist and they managed to get Loki to his feet. Tony heard him forcibly repress a scream of pain. "Are you okay?" he hissed.

"Yes. Just... give me a minute." Loki hung onto Tony's neck with one hand and pressed the other to his side. Tony could feel the magic vibrating under Loki's skin. "There. I'm fine." He let go and started to walk, but would have fallen if Tony hadn't grabbed him.

"Whoa. I think you're kind of _not_ fine, as in, not fine at _all._ Get back in bed."

"_No._ I just need to get my feet under me, I've been lying down too long." He again took a few steps, holding onto Tony's shoulder. They slowly made it to the bathroom, Loki's face drained of what little color he'd had upon awaking.

Tony maneuvered him to the toilet and Loki shakily stood facing it on his own. He looked down at himself for the first time since waking. "What the bloody hell am I wearing?"

"Those are mine. Fit pretty good, though, huh?"

Loki turned to look at him in distaste. "I'm wearing _your_ underwear?"

"What? They're clean!"

"Ugh."

"You know, you've had several parts of my body inserted into several parts of _your_ body, and you're grossed out by my clean underwear?"

"It's... fine. Now, get out. I prefer to piss in peace."

"Okay. I'll be right out here." Tony stepped out of the bathroom and heard the heavy urine stream fill the toilet bowl, followed by a flush. Then everything was quiet for a moment, until a plaintive "Tony?" came from within the room.

"Yeah?"

"I want to take a shower."

"Okay. Go ahead."

"I can't, uh... I can't quite manage the shirt."

Tony came back in and found Loki standing with the boxer shorts pooled around his feet and the t-shirt halfway up his torso, but the god clearly was in too much pain to wriggle the rest of the way out of it. It was a bit comical, but Tony could see the pain and embarrassment on Loki's face, and he just smiled kindly.

"Here. Let me give you a hand." He pulled the shirt over Loki's head.

"Thank you."

"I'll get the water started." Tony turned on the water, adjusting the temperature. It was a luxurious walk-in shower stall, with plenty of room for two. Tony helped Loki get in, and then he undressed himself, and joined Loki under the spray of hot water.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked tiredly.

"Making sure you don't slip and dislodge vital organs. And, I _totally_ don't have a boner, although I can't guarantee for how long, seeing as how we're both naked and wet, which are two of my top three favorite ways to be. Want to guess what the third one is?" Tony asked, a leer in his voice.

"Hm. This may be difficult for you to believe, but I'm not really in the mood for any of your erotic shenanigans at the moment."

"I know that." Tony gently turned him to face him, an actual serious expression now on his face. "I'm kidding. I'm just here because it seems to me that if you can't get a shirt over your head, you won't be able to wash your hair either. And, this..." Tony gathered the thick mass of hair matted with blood and dirt behind Loki's ear. "...this needs washing. Okay?"

Loki just nodded and turned back to the spray. Tony pulled the shower head out of its cradle and wet Loki's hair thoroughly. He then replaced it and poured shampoo into his palm and began massaging it into Loki's scalp, then carefully worked through the matted part, discovering a partly-healed gash underneath. Loki flinched when the water hit it, running a murky red down over his shoulders, but Tony noted that the other bruises and abrasions from yesterday were all but faded away.

The wound on his belly was still red and slightly swollen, but it no longer looked as if the skin was about to pull apart. Tony helped Loki wash himself, his neck, under his arms, over his stomach...

"That will do, Stark. I can manage from here."

"Good plan, admiral. Just holler if you need help getting out." Tony saluted cheerfully.

Loki didn't answer, and Tony stepped out onto the fluffy bathmat and toweled off. He found a fresh towel and left it on the rack for Loki, and then got dressed and went to wait in the bedroom. He did a not-too-bad job of changing the sheets and was just taking the wad of blood-stained, dirty bedclothes to the hamper when Loki emerged, wearing a towel around his waist, his hair dripping wet. He supported himself with one hand on the door jamb and asked, "Do you have any more clothes I might borrow?"

"Are you kidding? I've got a walk-in closet the size of JC Penney. But, don't you usually just, you know, conjure up a stylish outfit in your size? You're a teeny bit taller than me."

Loki gave him a look that was almost a smirk. "'A _teeny _bit?' Right." He hobbled toward the bedside chair and sank down into it, clutching the towel around him. "As for the conjuring—I tried. My magic seems to be a bit useless just now."

"What do you mean?" Tony sat on the ottoman facing him.

Loki stared past Tony, pursing his lips. "I'm not sure what's happening... It's very weak. I've never had that happen before. Of course, I've never been gored by a Tronderian nesehorn before."

"You mean, the outer-space rhino thingie?"

"Uh, yes, I believe so."

"He did quite a job on you."

Loki shrugged. "My own fault."

"How so?"

"I'd never seen such a creature. It was coming straight for Thor. I was a little... dazed, I suppose, from fighting the insurgents. I was standing there, thinking how funny it would be if the damn thing butted Thor right in the ass and sent him flying through the air. Then I saw the horn... By the time I reacted and shoved my brother out of the way, it was too late."

"You almost died, Loki."

"Mm."

"I thought you guys were immortal."

Loki gave a pained laugh. "No. We have our weaknesses, believe me. My kind more than the Æsir, it seems."

"What do you mean, 'your kind?'" Tony asked with a questioning frown.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Thor never told you? You knew I was adopted, right?"

"Yeah..."

Loki snickered. "He didn't tell you the whole story, of course." Loki gave Tony a rundown on his birth, on his true form, and how Odin had placed a lifelong spell upon him to change his appearance.

After he'd finished, Tony was quiet.

Loki gave a bitter huff. "So... how does it feel, knowing you've been fucking a monster?"

Tony took his hand. "You're not a monster."

"If I took on my Jotun form, you'd change your tune."

Tony met his eyes with a level gaze. "Try me."

Loki leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Tony watched in fascination as Loki's skin became a soft blue color, then deepened to indigo. Tribal markings appeared, and when Loki raised his head, his eyes glowed red.

Tony's mouth fell open.

Loki gave a soft laugh as his skin color gradually faded and his eyes became their normal green. "You see? You can't even find the words to express your disgust." He shook his head and stared out the window. "Don't worry. As soon as I recover sufficiently, I'll be on my way."

Tony cleared his throat and swiped a hand over his eyes. "Okay, I'm not saying that wouldn't take some getting used to. I mean, two seconds isn't long enough to sort of... wrap my mind around that. But it doesn't mean that I think you're a monster, or that there's anything wrong with you. And, by the way, I'm really getting pissed at how badly you underestimate me. I know I've been a little... insensitive here and there, but hey, at least I'm trying, which is more than I can say for you."

Loki's brows knit together in as stormy a look as he could manage. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's not like you've gone out of your way to work with me, is it? You get mad, and then, poof, you just disappear, and I have no way of contacting you. I mean, I'll do whatever it takes—gifts, flowers, self-flagellation, anything—to make things right when I've screwed up, but you won't let me. Why, I bet if Big Bubba Thor hadn't brought you here after you got hurt, I'd still be sitting on my thumb, wondering if I'd ever get to see you again. Right?"

Loki shifted uncomfortably. "Most likely."

"Yeah, see? It's a two-way street, dude."

"What is?"

"Being in a relationship!"

A slightly amused grimace crossed Loki's face. _"Relationship? _Are you seriously under the misapprehension that we're in a relationship? How? When did this momentous thing happen? Oh, perhaps it was between the time I was forced to pretend to be an absolute moron about Midgardian pastimes in order to be granted the pleasure of your company for one lousy evening, and the time I had to transform myself into a woman to prevent your closest friends from cottoning to the fact that you deigned to share a meal with me. You're subtle, my friend, because I certainly didn't feel like I was being included in any sort of _relationship, _other than to perform as your own personal circus bear_." _

Loki looked exhausted by the end of his rant, and Tony felt confused between anger and guilt. He stood up and stalked to the window, forcing himself to get a hold on his emotions. He then turned and went back to Loki.

"You expect too much." Tony spoke in a reasoned tone, but Loki could hear the barely-concealed anger underneath it. "You think this is easy for me? You think I'm just being an asshole all the time? I'm worried about a few things, not the least of which is that if Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. find out about you, that you'll be nabbed and God knows what'll be done to you then."

"I told you, I'm not afraid of them. They can't contain me, I would just—"

"Just disappear? Sure. Look at you now. You can't even come up with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in your size, hell, you can barely sit up straight without looking like you're going to pass out. What do you think you could do if Nick Fury came through that door right this minute?"

"I _will_ recover, Stark. This is a very unusual circumstance—"

"Life is full of unusual circumstances."

Loki sighed and let his head tip back against the chair. "True. But, I really don't care to argue anymore, if you don't mind. I'd like to... lie down for a while. Please."

Tony's expression softened. He got up and found a t-shirt and a pair of brand-new sleep pants from his dresser. "Here. Pepper got me these and they're too big. Should just about fit _you_, Daddy Long-Legs."

Loki took them, and nodded his gratitude.

Tony stood, leaned down, and pressed a kiss onto Loki's cheek. "Do you need help getting dressed and back in bed?"

"N-no. I'll manage."

"Okay. Well, I've got stuff I need to do. If you need anything, just speak to JARVIS—I'll instruct him to respond to your voice."

"All right."

"I'll check on you later."

"Fine."

Tony stood looking at Loki until Loki finally looked up at Tony. "Yes?"

"Are you still mad at me?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you are the most exasperating creature. I probably am, but fortunately for you, I can't remember why. So for now, let's just pretend I'm not, and you can go on about your business. I'll... turn you into a warthog later." He made a dismissive motion with his hand.

"I'd be a sexy damn warthog."

"No doubt." Loki looked up again and a grin stole across his face. Tony grinned back.

"I'll see you later. _Right? _No disappearing on me?"

"I couldn't if I wanted to. And, I don't want to. Yet."

Tony gripped his chin and gave him a warm kiss. "Good. I'm going to do my damndest to keep it that way." Tony gave him one more peck and then left, headed for his workroom.

Loki regarded the odd Midgardian clothing he'd been given and smiled. The pajama pants were a rather feminine shade of purple with something called "Hello Kitty" imprinted all over them. Loki examined the label and saw that they were a ladies' size "large." He almost laughed out loud as he approvingly thought, _"Pepper Potts is a cruel woman." _

He then began the excruciating task of slipping them on.


	8. Chicken Soup for the Mischief God's Soul

It was now rather obvious to Loki that his body was intent on betraying him in every way possible. Oh, the stabbing pain in his gut had subsided to a hot, dull ache, and the cuts and bruises all over his body had faded, leaving nothing but little jabbing reminders when he inadvertently touched them, and the seam where the torn flesh of his side had knit back together now just felt itchy and tight. He'd managed to dress himself and crawl back into Starks's bed, settling on what he absurdly had come to think of as "his" side, without assistance. And, his mind was clearing, his memory of the battle on Trondheim—and what came after—coming back in full force.

But, he still felt lethargic and fragile, still felt as if any sudden movement might rip his insides apart. Stark was right, he couldn't trust his body to support him in the event of an attack. And, his magic...

That above all was the most puzzling thing, and the most disturbing.

It wasn't gone. Far from it. Instead, it felt _heavy_, cloying, like a huge feather pillow being held to his face. When he'd tried to conjure his clothing, instead of the expected crackle of energy coursing through his body, he'd felt a dull "thunk," as if he'd tried to roll a boulder out of his path. And, nothing had happened, as he'd pulled back the moment his _seidr_ resisted, but he wasn't sure what would have resulted if he'd allowed it to go on.

Perhaps he'd have produced a full-sized space-rhinoceros, as Tony called it, to be deposited in the middle of of the billionaire's bath chamber. A smile tugged at his lips at the thought, but then a little shiver of distress went through him. Who knew _what_ might happen, with him in this state? He'd never experienced anything like it before. Never heard of it happening to anyone else either, although he had a vague memory of one of Frigga's handmaidens laughing about how her _seidr_ had gone haywire when she was expecting a baby. Loki rolled his eyes.

_It's a bloody good thing men can't get pregnant, _he thought with some amusement. _I'd make a wretched parent._

He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep—he was past simple exhaustion, well into some sort of physical systems breakdown that was only just beginning to repair itself—but his limbs were restless and he hurt too much to toss and turn as they commanded him to do. He thought of asking JARVIS to send Tony up to amuse him, but of course that would be incredibly rude. Not that he cared. But he had a feeling he was going to be stuck in the halls of Stark Tower for a while during his recovery, and he supposed it would behoove him to stay in his host's good graces for as long as possible.

And, anyway, Stark was probably napping himself, having spent the night in that uncomfortable chair. Loki remembered coming to consciousness in the night and finding Tony sitting right beside him, holding his hand. His stomach dipped at the memory—he'd seen Odin like that once, sitting up into the early morning hours beside Frigga. He'd been very small at the time, and it was only much later that he'd learned Frigga had had a miscarriage, but to his boyish eyes, it had seemed like the most romantic thing in the world, staying up with your love when they weren't feeling well.

He wondered what had been in Tony's head when he took his hand.

He shoved the thought aside and gave up on sleep. He tentatively imagined the television set coming on, but felt that same resistance and hastily canceled the image in his mind, worried that the damn thing might blow up. He grinned at that mental image—oh, that would definitely irritate the billionaire, especially considering that Loki would have not one clue as to how to repair it, even if his magic was behaving properly.

Instead, he found the television remote and took a moment to study it. He understood perfectly well how _that_ worked, and he'd seen both Tony and Thor use one, but he'd never had occasion to do so himself. He had a surge of frustration when he punched a few buttons with no result. Then, he turned it around, and rolled his eyes at his own stupidity when the device sprang to life.

Loki contentedly "channel surfed," as it was apparently called, for a long while, amazed at the vapidness of what the mortals apparently considered to be entertainment. He eventually came across the station that Thor had introduced him to, TV Land. He watched an old episode of Leave it to Beaver, amused and bewildered by the insipid Midgardian version of a family with two brothers—he could rather see Thor as Wally, but young Theodore was far too guileless and inept for him to identify with him in the least—and then at the station break it was announced that the next show would be something called "Bewitched." Loki liked the sound of that title, wondering what it could possibly refer to, given the staunch disregard given to magic and witchery by this realm.

But, he was intrigued to discover that the show featured yet another "typical" American family, only in this one, the wife was a beautiful blonde witch. He was instantly disgusted at the basic premise—for some unfathomable reason, Samantha was not to use her magical talents under any circumstances, although, of course, she used them all the time, thus constantly bringing dishonor and humiliation to her fool of a husband—but Loki loved seeing the Midgardian notions about witchcraft played out in a production intended for family viewing. "Such hypocrites," he thought, shaking his head.

He watched for a while, and had nearly slipped into sleep when he realized that, in this particular episode, Samantha's magic wasn't working. His curiosity was piqued, and he roused himself, soon drawn into the story. He chuckled in amusement each time Samantha attempted to cast a spell, only for it to go comically wrong. The source of the problem turned out to be exposure to an exotic flower, but his brow knit as that led to another thought—could there have been some sort of poison on the horn of the beast that gored him? He mulled that over, shaking his head as he rejected the notion. No, his magic had worked well enough to keep him alive and to mend his open wounds; surely any poisonous effects would have been instantaneous. Still, it was something to explore if his _seidr_ continued to malfunction.

The show ended, and Loki clicked off the TV. He felt a little better and found the strength to pull himself out of bed and pad barefoot to the window seat, carrying a couple of extra pillows with him. He settled in cozily, resting his head against the cool glass. It was nice to be out of bed in a chamber so high above the ground, and he was glad to watch the sprawling city bustling along on its way to a full recovery from the destruction he himself had wrought upon it.

* * *

Tony puttered in his workshop for a few hours, but he found it hard to concentrate. He kept bugging JARVIS with questions like, "What's Loki doing?" and "What's he doing _now?"_ and "What do you mean, he's doing nothing? He's breathing, right? Wait—he _is_ breathing, right?" and "Does he look okay to you?" and "Is he asleep?" and "I wonder why he's not asleep," and "Has he said anything?" and "Are you_ sure_ he hasn't said anything?" and "Do you think he wants something to drink?" and "Oh, he's watching TV? What's he watching? Does he like it? You think he'd like to watch a movie instead?" He thought he heard an actual note of exasperation in JARVIS' AI voice when he suggested that perhaps Tony ought to go check on Loki, himself.

"No, man, I'm too busy." Tony picked up a random screwdriver and waved it in the general direction of the security camera. "See? I'm swamped, I don't have time to go playing nursemaid to an alien god. That's what I have you for, isn't it?"

"Of course, sir. It's just that, you seem very concerned about your guest's well-being, and since my observations don't seem to have satisfied your curiosity, perhaps you should go take a look at him yourself."

"Yeah, well, I'm up to my ears here in work." Tony gestured at nothing in particular, frowning. "You sure he hasn't said anything? Hasn't, you know, asked for me or anything?"

"Quite sure, sir."

"Well, good, that's good. He's probably fine, then. Although... I bet he's hungry. Do you think he's hungry?"

"I wouldn't know, sir. Shall I ask him?"

"Nah, don't bother, he's got to be hungry. I mean, _I'm_ hungry. What do you think he could eat?"

"Given the nature of his injuries, perhaps something gentle on the stomach such as soup would be best."

Tony brightened. "Soup! Sure. Listen, have a couple of orders of chicken noodle delivered asap and let me know when it gets here. I'll take it up to him myself."

"Yes, sir."

"Great. That'll give me time to... get some more work done down here." Tony very efficiently put the screwdriver back on his work table, lining it up neatly with several other recently unused tools, and then he turned to head up to his living quarters to find something soothing for Loki to drink and maybe to see if he'd like to watch a movie with him.

* * *

Tony carried a tray with bowls of hot soup and cold drinks to his bedroom and lightly rapped on the door before opening it and swiveling to set the tray on the nightstand. But, Loki wasn't in the bed.

Tony felt an irrational moment of panic—all he needed was for Loki to go roaming around Stark Tower, injured and with bad juju going on—but he caught sight of a hand combing through dark hair, and then he saw Loki sitting by the window.

"Oh, there you are. What're you doing out of bed?" Tony brought the tray over to the lounging area and set it on a coffee table.

"I couldn't bear to lie there another minute. My legs feel like they're made of lead."

"I brought you some soup."

Loki hadn't bothered to turn to look when Tony came in, but now he gave the tray an interested glance. "Soup? What sort?"

"Chicken noodle. The best in town. Hungry?"

"I am, a bit." He took the proffered bowl from Tony, tipped his head in thanks, and then took a tentative spoonful. He nodded. "Very nice. Easy to digest. Reminds me of a concoction my mother used to make for Thor and I when we were small."

Tony gave him an amused grin. "Your mom is, what, like, queen of Asgard? And she used to make you guys soup?"

"Oh, we had servants to prepare meals, but she enjoyed cooking for us. Said she liked making sure her boys were properly nourished while going about the business of leveling the palace on a daily basis." He had a sad smile on his face and looked to be miles away.

"She must be a good mom."

Loki nodded firmly. "Yes. She never... distinguished between Thor and I. We were both her sons." He took a deep breath and a pained look crossed his face. Tony wasn't sure whether it came from the effects of his recent injury, or from a long ago hurt of a different sort.

They fell silent for a while, concentrating on the soup and their own thoughts. When they were nearly finished, Tony spoke up. "So, I've still got a ton of stuff to do, but I was thinking—maybe we could watch a movie later. We could order in and eat and watch in bed, have our own personal slumber party in our jammies. What do you think?"

Loki frowned slightly. "Well, that brings up a question. I can't go anywhere until I regain proper use of my magic, so I'll have to stay another night or two, at least. But, I'll not depose you from your own bed, and I'm sure you don't care to sleep beside me when I'm not well enough to provide you with sexual diversion. Where would you have me pass the night? Anything will do, I'm accustomed to far less hospitable accommodations that this, I can assure you."

Loki scraped up the last spoonful noodles and popped it in his mouth before looking up to see Tony staring at him with an aggrieved expression on his face. "What?" he asked.

"You're a trip, you know that?" Tony huffed. "You really think the only reason I'd want to spend the night with you is for sex?"

"Given our history, it's really the only explanation that makes sense," Loki said reasonably.

"For your information, I've been waiting a long time—a _damned _long time—to sleep with you. I mean, I've done some really cool things in my life, my bucket list is shorter than most, but one thing I've always wanted to do is to fall asleep beside a goddamned space alien god of mischief, and, sure, I've come _this close," _he said, holding up his pinched thumb and forefinger, "...on a couple of occasions, but, hmm, somehow it never worked out, and gee, whose fault is that, I wonder? So, yeah. If you think I'm going to miss out on my chance to take advantage of your feeble state to hold you, and like, _cuddle_ under the covers with you, and maybe even wake up in the friggin' morning with you, you're crazy. Sorry, no offense, that was... insensitive. Really sorry, don't disappear." Tony was blinking a bit rapidly by now.

"As I believe I mentioned earlier, I couldn't if I wanted to," Loki said dryly. "And, I still don't want to. Although, I'm not much of a cuddler. But, the rest of it... sounds fine. The movie, and such, I mean. And, waking up together. That would be—pleasant, I think." He looked down into his mostly empty soup bowl and idly poked at a scrap of chicken with his spoon.

"In the interest of full disclosure, I do have pretty aggressive morning farts," Tony admitted bravely.

Loki broke into a full-on grin. "Well. I daresay you'd have to go some to rival a few of my previous bedmates. And, that's just the women."

Tony cracked up. "Well, I'll let you be the judge of that. Okay. I'll be back around dinner time. Be thinking of what you want to order, and look at the pay-per-view channels and pick a movie. Anything else you need in the meantime?"

"No, I have all I need."

Tony began striding to the door, when he heard Loki say, "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"You were wrong."

"About what?"

"When you said I haven't been trying. I _have_ been trying. I suppose it's difficult to tell, but... I _do_ expect too much, you were right about that. It's just that, every time I've cared for someone, they've disappointed me. And, it's not even their fault, usually. I just want so much for things to be a certain way, and when they're not, it hurts. Because, in truth, the fault usually lies with me." He shrugged. "I'm sorry for running away before. I won't do it again, even when I'm able."

Tony came back to his side, leaned down and took his face in his hands. He gave him a warm, lingering kiss. "That's the best news I've had in a long time."

"I doubt it. You'll be begging me to leave before long."

"Probably. I'm looking forward to getting to that point, though."

Loki chuckled, but then grimaced and clutched his side. "Bloody hell, Stark. don't make me laugh, it hurts."

"Then, get your ass back in bed and rest. Come on, I'll help you." Tony gave Loki an arm and they made their way to the bed. Loki slowly eased himself down, and Tony covered him up before pressing a kiss on his cheek. "There. Now, stay put and I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Oh, and about the disappearing act? I forgive you."

Loki raised tired eyes to his. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Thank you. And I forgive you, too."

Tony sighed elaborately. "For what?"

"For being an ass. On numerous occasions."

"Well, I hope I built up some credit over the last day or so, 'cause that shit's congenital with me."

"Mm. Well, I suppose we both have some issues to work on."

"There you go—Loki, master of the understatement." Tony gave him another kiss and a wink goodbye, and then headed back to his lab, where, miraculously, he managed to work for over two full hours before asking JARVIS what Loki was doing.


	9. Gentle

Tony brought up his and Loki's order of Thai food.

Loki had taken over the bed with books, magazines, and scattered pillows, and as Tony stripped down to a t-shirt and underwear, Loki quickly made room for him to join him under the covers. Tony turned down the lights; Loki had chosen a shark attack movie for them to watch, and they were soon absorbed in laughing at the absurd plot and gratuitous violence as they ate by the glow of the large television screen.

"Well, that was pretty good," Tony said approvingly as the end credits began to roll. "There's another one coming up, let's see—'Mega Shark versus the Giant Octopus'—how does that sound?"

Loki chuckled. "It sounds ridiculous. Very tempting, but..." He stifled a yawn. "I think I might just go to sleep. Feel free to keep watching, though, it won't bother me in the least."

"Nah, that's okay. I've killed off enough brain cells for one night."

Loki bit his lip before asking, "Are you certain you don't want me to move to another of your bedchambers?"

"Yes, I'm _certain,"_ Tony said in mild exasperation. "I like this arrangement—quit worrying. I told you, I want to wake up next to you for a change."

"Very well." Loki smiled. "In that case, good night." He scooted a little farther away from Tony, pulled the covers over himself and closed his eyes. Tony gave him an appraising look.

"How're you feeling?"

Loki opened his eyes. "I'm well enough. The pain is gone, for the most part."

"Let me see your boo-boo."

Loki raised himself on one elbow and gave him a bewildered glare. "My _what?" _

Tony gestured in the direction of Loki's belly. "Your ouchie, you know, where the space-rhino gored you."

"Oh! All right." Loki pulled up his t-shirt and turned on his side so that Tony could examine the nearly-healed wound. Impressed, Tony gave a whistle.

"Wow. You can hardly tell that there was a huge gaping hole in your tummy just twenty-four hours ago."

"Yes. I really think that with a decent night's sleep, I'll be fully recovered by morning."

"Damn! That's hard to believe, but good... Well, I'm beat, too. I think I'll join you in dreamland." Tony flicked off the TV and then got up to clear away their dinner tray before turning off the light and nestling in beside Loki. "Come'ere," he said, holding his arms open.

Loki gave him a dubious look. "I told you, I'm not a cuddler. This is a huge bed, you have plenty of room on your side."

"Okay, no cuddling. Fine, then let's talk shark movies. What'd you think of the production values on that one? I thought the cinematography was above average for this type of thing, but don't you agree the plot dragged a little in the third act? Oh, and could you tell when they shifted to CGI? I—"

Loki rolled his eyes. "I don't think there's enough substance in the entire shark film genre to support an in-depth discussion, and anyway, I did mention wanting to go to sleep, did I not?"

"All right, not interested in film analysis, no problem. Let's dish. What do you think Thor and Jane Foster do in bed? Think they get kinky? You're his brother, I bet you've seen his dick, is he huge?"

Loki shot a baleful expression at Tony, but took a moment to appear to give Tony's questions deep consideration. "Hmm, let's see—one, I don't care; two, I have no idea; and, three, yes, but not so large as you'd think, given his height. Now, please be quiet."

"Well, I wish I could, but I've got all these cuddling urges coursing through my veins, and I'm sorry, but if they go unsatisfied, they're going to come out through my mouth. It's a thing, look it up. So—"

With an exaggerated sigh, Loki rolled into Tony's arms. Tony gave a low laugh and pulled him closer. "Ah, that's better. I'll hardly have to talk at all now. In fact, if I could just get a kiss, I might even be able to go to slee—"

Now Loki was laughing, too. "Gods, you're a needy bastard. Here..." Loki gave him a deep, soulful kiss and then nestled against him. "Now, if you could possibly shut the fuck up, I would be very grateful."

"I'll see what I can do." Tony yawned luxuriously, and soon they were both sound asleep.

* * *

It was a miracle.

Tony woke up at dawn and found Loki still in his arms. He'd twisted and turned in the night, and now his back was to Tony's chest, but the length of his body was still pressed in close and their legs were tangled together. Tony managed to suppress a triumphant "Woo-hoo!" and just gathered Loki closer.

In the dim gray morning light he was able to study Loki more intimately than ever before, and he reveled in the little details. The way thick strands of long black hair had fallen aside, revealing an undergrowth of soft curls resting on his slender neck. The elegant line of Loki's arm, pale skin covering well-defined musculature. Tapered fingers, deft and graceful, just as capable of wielding a weapon as a paintbrush. Tony inhaled him, and listened to his steady breathing and felt the rhythmic beat of his heart. He hadn't been kidding when he told Loki he'd waited a long time to wake up next to him, and now he realized that, _damn, _it was worth every impatient moment.

Loki stirred. He gasped, startled, and then turned to see Tony beside him and the confusion in his eyes disappeared. A slow, lazy grin crossed his lips and he turned over to face his bedmate. "Hello, human," he said in a quiet rasp.

"Well, hello, beautiful."

"Hm, do you think me so?" With his forefinger, Loki traced a line from Tony's dark eyebrow down over his cheekbone to his lips. "You're a rather decent specimen, yourself."

Tony frowned thoughtfully. "I guess that's your idea of a compliment?"

"It is." Loki kissed him and then pulled back, something primitive shimmering in his dark green eyes. He slid a hand down Tony's back, holding him in place as he pressed his groin against the swell of Tony's morning erection. "Well. It appears we're both waking up in a similar condition."

The friction Loki created was delicious and Tony's cock got even harder, straining against his silk shorts. "Ah—damn it, man, what're you doing to me? I'm not so good at the whole delayed gratification thing, and—"

"Who said anything about a delay?" Loki chuckled and moved to take off his Hello Kitty sleep pants. "I have no intention of postponing a tryst with you any longer. Come along, mortal, drop your knickers and let's get on with it." Loki pulled the t-shirt over his head and lay back wantonly, giving Tony a lascivious grin as he spread his knees apart.

Tony felt like a dog being served a steak dinner, but he forced himself to take a deep, calming breath. "Okay, let's discuss. Day before yesterday, you _almost_ _died_, remember? And you were in so much pain yesterday morning you couldn't dress yourself. And now you're all ready for a little sexy-time action? I don't think that's a good idea."

"I'm _fine._ Look." Loki pointed at the scar from his injury; this morning, it was nothing but a faint line, barely noticeable. "See? I'm healed, there's nothing to worry about."

"But—"

"We gods heal quickly. If you'll recall, I was tossed around like a rag doll by your gigantic green beast, yet I was on my feet asking for a drink mere moments afterwards. Which you never did get for me, by the way." Loki had a teasing tone in his voice and he reached out to cup Tony's chin in his hand. "I promise you, I'm perfectly well, barring my magical abilities which are still unstable. But, that has nothing to do with _this." _He kissed Tony again. "Please don't worry. I'll tell you if I feel any discomfort. All right?"

"Do you know how dead I would be if I hurt you with my dick and had to explain that to your big brother?"

"I seriously question how much damage that minute little organ of yours could actually do, so it's a moot point."

"You know, you're hot, but your sex talk could use some work."

"You seem to like it just fine," Loki purred, sliding his hand into Tony's shorts and gripping him tightly.

Tony made a choked sound and with supreme effort took Loki's hand and pulled it away. "Yeah, okay, I kind of like the abuse, but really, Loki, I'm just afraid we might—"

A thunderous expression crossed Loki's face.

"Why must I always romance you into fucking me?" he exclaimed bitterly. "I know my own body, Stark. If I say it's all right, it's all right. Now, shall we do this, or should I take advantage of whatever means of transportation you Midgardians employ to depart from an inhospitable host's bed?"

"Now, chill out, Shakespeare," Tony said soothingly. "I'm just trying to take care of you." He caressed Loki's face and then took him in his arms. "I just want you to be okay."

Loki allowed himself to be held and his momentary irritation subsided. "Oh. Well. I... I appreciate that." He pulled back and looked into Tony's eyes. "I'm well, Tony, I promise you. Please... I want you."

"I want you, too."

"Then, have me." Loki's wicked smile was back and he pulled Tony on top of him.

* * *

This time, it was gentle.

Tony refused to hurry, pointedly ignoring the initial onslaught of Loki's goading insults. He shushed him and concentrated on nibbling his neck, laving his nipples, and caressing his back and the taut lines of his belly with faint brushes of his fingertips. He kissed Loki slow and easy, dipping his tongue between his lips and licking the warm slickness he found inside them. He murmured soft little endearments, words Loki had heard rarely in connection with himself, and the god found that his sharp tongue had somehow been stilled, given over to breathing soft moans and whispering Tony's name.

For Loki, sex had always been a cerebral business, his mind always calculating, even down to which particular movement would bring the most pleasure to himself while at the same time bestowing whatever effect he desired onto his partner. He always held tight control, determined not to allow himself to make the stupid mistake of trusting another with his mind, his body, or his heart.

How funny that all that power, all that control, could be stripped away by one cock-sure little human.

Tony's hands were strong, and he seemed to know just where to touch, to stroke, to probe to make Loki lose himself. Loki felt like a drowning man pulled out of the water, gasping as he filled his lungs with air. For the first time in his life, he didn't care what would come later. As Tony entered his body, Loki felt like weeping, because Tony was _careful._ Because Tony asked "You okay?" when his breath hitched, because Tony stopped to hold him and kiss him even when he'd been fucking into him hard and fast, and because Tony made him feel like he was the only thing in the world that mattered, the only thing that he loved.

Loki knew he was a fool, but he didn't care. Whatever Tony was willing to give, he would take. Even if it all ended tomorrow, he _wanted _this, wanted these memories of being held and loved, memories of a time when someone cared enough to call him "sweetheart" and to whisper "You're my angel, my baby," in his ear, even if he didn't really mean it.

He'd need those memories for those times ahead that were sure to come, when he would be left beaten and broken and alone.

He'd need to remember that, once, there was someone who'd cared enough to be gentle.


End file.
